


Hope Called Themselves the Renegades

by Dawniebb



Category: Renegades - Marissa Meyer
Genre: A LOT of Angst, M/M, Multi, Origins fic, also angst, also there's panic attacks in here, and a lot of self-projection, because I'm THAT gal, because projecting plays an important part in my writing process, did i get attached to characters that have absolutely no relevance in the series? yes, except Simon and Hugh because i respect them, friends to lovers i think, part of this it's just me thirsting over everyone in this, quarantine project, there's gaaaays
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26350873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawniebb/pseuds/Dawniebb
Summary: Abnormal humans who were detached from society. Revoked from their rights. Neglected. Unwanted. Rejected.Still, for some unknown reason, they called us prodigies. And we were a part of our own, sad little world, until Ace Anarchy appeared.He took the lead and raised the voice of his fellow mistreated prodigies. Like those cosmic forces did, Ace Anarchy destroyed the city that had made sure he knew he didn’t belong in, and then rebuilt it as his own.Ace Anarchy and his Anarchists, who walked with their heads high through the wreckage. Their voices loud and clear. Visionaries. Heroes. Hope.Hope called themselves the Anarchists.And so they were hope, until they weren’t.
Relationships: Alec Artino | Ace Anarchy & David Artino, David Artino/Tala Artino, Hugh Everhart | Captain Chromium & Georgia Rawles | Lady Indomitable, Hugh Everhart | Captain Chromium/Simon Westwood | The Dread Warden
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> ARFSGHDFGHS OMGGGGGG  
> I'M BAD AT INTRODUCTIONS   
> But...yeah. Hi :') I'm Dawnie, and I basically spent my quarantine writing a Renegades origin fic :') bc the Renegades fandom lacks from Renegades and Anarchists content and I'm really interested in what happened during the Age of Anarchy, sooooo...I decided to write this. It was supposed to be a family-friendly, self-indulgent, 15 chapters fic but that didn't happen lol and I ended up making it my NaNoWriMo project and here it is!   
> I put a lot of my effort and my time in this so...comments are pretty much appreciated and welcomed :')   
> I don't want to make this longer so I'm going to jump right into it: If anyone's reading this, hello :3 I hope you're having a nice day and I hope you enjoy this.

_We were one in the beginning. One part of a bigger something. Small human beings in a huge universe._

_Then, came light. An enormous, overwhelming beam of light sent by the cosmic forces, which divided us all apart into two different entities: Those who were normal…and those who weren’t._

_Abnormal humans born with extra extremities or unexplained capacities; Freaks who were born normal, but then turned different all of a sudden._

_Abnormal humans who were detached from society. Revoked from their rights. Neglected. Unwanted. Rejected._

_Still, for some unknown reason, they called us prodigies. And we were a part of our own, sad little world, until Ace Anarchy appeared._

_He took the lead and raised the voice of his fellow mistreated prodigies. Like those cosmic forces did, Ace Anarchy destroyed the city that had made sure he knew he didn’t belong in, and then rebuilt it as his own._

_Ace Anarchy and his Anarchists, who walked with their heads high through the wreckage. Their voices loud and clear. Visionaries. Heroes. Hope._

_Hope called themselves the Anarchists._

_And so they were hope, until they weren’t._

_Until the last plan turned to dust. Until the last resource disappeared into thin air._

_Then we were back to the beginning, where there was nothing but a whole universe out there, and we were only an angry little part of it. Prodigies and non-prodigies were living together in misery, and we, prodigies, were pointed at as the ones to blame._

_People with extraordinary powers they didn’t ask for, condemned to lives in the streets; abandoned prodigy babies and children who had no other way to survive but look out for themselves because their parents couldn’t take their presence or existence whatsoever._

_A city surrounded by poverty, street fights and death. Chaos. Madness. Anarchy._

_We called it The Age of Anarchy._

_Then came a time in which those extraordinary powers got worse and worse every time a prodigy was born, and their gifts were so unique and noticeable they couldn’t even find protection in the shadows._

_A child, who was the first to publicly appear after her parents left her to die at a young age._

_An urban legend._

_A shadow in the sky. Half-human, half-bird, who was able to touch thunder and lightning, but thunder and lightning weren’t able to touch her._

_Nobody knew her face; we only knew her wings that blocked a small portion of the moonlight. Nobody knew who she was, nor who those parents who had abandoned her were. Most importantly, nobody knew her name._

_So, people called her The Thunderbird._


	2. Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But if she had to take something positive out of this, then this positive thing would be that them wanting her to stay inside only made her more excited about Gatlon as…  
> As a concept, perhaps.  
> Because, and she wasn’t willing to lie about this: Gatlon was ugly, besides being hostile and cold. And for all Kasumi cared, she could swear it was hurting.   
> If Gatlon could speak, it would be screaming in pain.

**_3 years into the Age of Anarchy…_ **

Georgia Rawles was worried.

In fact, she was more than worried; she was absolutely distraught.

She’d never been this worried her whole life.

The thermometer in Simon Westwood’s mouth started making an irritating “beep” sound, which did nothing but worsen the headache that had been building up in her over the course of the last hours. In a careful, almost tender manner, Georgia took the thermometer out of Simon’s mouth, afraid to read the numbers…a fact she wasn’t ashamed to admit.

Simon had coughed so much he said all he could taste in his mouth was metal. That is, his throat was probably bleeding. And maybe she could’ve brighten the mood by saying this whole situation could’ve been _so_ much worse…But Simon was flickering right before their eyes and would even disappear for seconds…or minutes, in the worst scenario. And Simon didn’t flicker unintentionally unless his body was too weak to control his own gift. 

Having this notion, the numbers that the thermometer showed didn’t help.

“He’s really sick.” She announced.

Hugh Everhart flinched a little on his chair, by the other side of the bed. He seemed not to be too surprised about it, but he did seem affected.

Hugh was a prodigy too. Georgia couldn’t quite understand how his powers worked exactly or what the limitations for them were, but as far as she knew, he was the closest thing to an invincible human this world had. He was also super strong and sometimes would joke about having a layer of chrome beneath his skin, which allowed him to fabricate chrome-made tools or weapons out of nowhere.

Though, Georgia was starting to believe that wasn’t a joke.

And what wasn’t a joke either was the fact Simon and him had been living together longer than she had been living with both of them, so they cared deeply about each other, and Hugh looked extremely tired despite being invincible since Simon had fallen ill like two days ago.

“Has he gotten any better?” Hugh asked, his voice being almost overshadowed by Simon’s sniff.

Georgia wasn’t a nurse, let alone being a doctor (Stars, she was only 12) but even she knew the answer for that was negative, so she shook her head.

“Not really.”

“And if we don’t do something about it he might get worse.” She continued, a sharp pain hitting her in the chest out of pure concern.

“It’s okay, Georgie.” Simon coughed under the sheets. “You don’t have to worry.”

How could a parent be so heartless?

How could they just stay _so_ calm, living their best lives upstairs while their child’s fever got so bad it seemed like his body was trying to self-destruct by boiling itself?

“You can’t ask me that, darling.” She told him, as she took the wet cloth by the nightstand and then placed it on Simon’s forehead.

She then asked Hugh what they should do…something that felt embarrassing for her as a person and for her ego, since she was the oldest in this room. However, she didn’t use words to ask him that, and fortunately Hugh was distressed enough to understand without a verbal explanation.

His answer was as reckless and gut-guided as Georgia expected. What she asked as a question, he took it as a responsibility. Then, he turned into a closed question with only one answer, and when he started putting on his hoodie, she saw nothing but utter determination in his eyes.

“Ask Mr. and Mrs. Westwood to keep the porch light on, in case I return late…I mean, not that they care anyway, but still.” Hugh shrugged.

“If you think you’ll return late…maybe you shouldn’t use the front door at all.” Georgia advised. “I’ll keep the backdoor open for you.”

“Good then.”

“Where’s Hugh going?”

Georgia opened her mouth to explain, but Hugh managed to do it first.

First he got close to the bed; then, he took Simon’s hand as if he were afraid to break it.

“I’m going to bring some medicine for you, so you feel better. Alright?”

Georgia felt hesitation emanating from Simon’s whole being. However, she could also feel he knew he needed that medicine.

And Georgia could fly in case of emergency, but pharmacies weren’t up in the sky, and she didn’t have super strength to defend herself from people twice her size on the ground…and their life was _so_ sad that Simon also knew that.

So he just held Hugh’s hand back and, with a sad smile, he said:

“Don’t get killed.”

Hugh returned his smile, frowning in concern.

“I’d like to see them try.”

Afterwards, he left.

A 9 year old following his survival instinct into the messy, shattered, prodigy-hating hole that called itself Gatlon City.

It was past midnight when Kasumi Hasegawa saw the shadow in the sky. She considered herself lucky she hadn’t missed it, because she had been waiting for it all night. If she happened to just let it pass…that would’ve been a waste of time.

Because, honestly, she had also been tracing it for days now; the time when it appeared; the time when it vanished.

Of course, she had also taken care of some other details, like the fact she wasn’t allowed to leave the dorm past 10:00 PM. For this reason, Kasumi had come up a plan.

She had seen the cool older girls sneak out before pretty easily, as the corridor monitors were usually sleepy and didn’t pay any special attention to anything. She had also tried to calculate which pieces of the floor creaked and which ones didn’t and had practiced her tiptoe walking…just in case.

So when Kasumi saw the shadow, she put her plan into action.

She tiptoed sideways through the halls of the orphanage, making as little sound as possible, terrified enough to stop breathing when she saw anyone dressed in something similar to a nun habit.

As Kasumi expected, she didn’t get caught, but when she felt the night breeze hitting against her skin and through her nostrils, her whole being was shaking, from her head to the toes she had used to sneak out.

And given the fact it had felt like an eternity but actually her escape had only lasted a couple of minutes (like she had planned) she could still see the winged shadow in the distance; further than she would’ve liked, but close enough for her to know where it would land.

These days she flew lower than usual, and her feathers were everywhere. Kasumi was worried she was injured and that was the reason she was losing feathers and flying closer to the ground; the neighbors, on the other side, were enraged.

Kasumi wasn’t.

Actually, she had thought about collecting all those feathers to give them back to her, but she realized it was useless unless this pal was able to stick them back with glue.

But right now she was so…eager, that the remnants of last night’s rain would move to the sides to allow her through.

Kasumi jogged after the shadow, surrounded by the humid and contaminated smell of poor, destroyed Gatlon.

The city looked like something taken straight from one of those scary movies the older kids would force them to watch when they were bored. To Kasumi’s eyes, it looked like it had been built out of grey and black, as if a prodigy that somehow was able to touch colors had decided to build a city with those ones.

The nuns of the orphanage used to tell her she was lucky she had home; somewhere she could just stay instead of being exposed to the ruthless outside world; however, it did seem strange to her that the rest of the kids were able to go outside once in a while, in small field trips or Christmas events or even to go shopping, and overall they looked happy, but when Kasumi asked why they were so committed to make her stay inside, they always answered she was far too young to understand.

Although, from what she could see, sometimes she acted smarter than the older kids.

But if she had to take something positive out of this, then this positive thing would be that them wanting her to stay inside only made her more excited about Gatlon as…

As a concept, perhaps.

Because, and she wasn’t willing to lie about this: Gatlon was ugly, besides being hostile and cold. And for all Kasumi cared, she could swear it was hurting.

If Gatlon could speak, it would be screaming in pain.

And maybe this time she was actually too young to understand why, but it looked so…mistreated. And sad.

That didn’t make her less excited upon the idea of going outside, but the city could’ve used to be more presentable for the people who lived there.

With that thought in mind, Kasumi kept going as if the shadow in the sky were her own, until it stopped in an area that was close to a local dumpster, on top of a small hill.

There was a barely decent house that looked more like a hovel to Kasumi; the wooden door wasn’t even attached to the structure anymore and, instead, it was now leaned against the outside wall, so the only thing that covered the entrance was a decolored, tasteless curtain.

Trying to decide whether if she regretted this or not, Kasumi walked towards the hovel and crossed the threshold, as silent as she could.

Inside, the view wasn’t much better. It was as cluttered as a hoarder’s house, and very dark, since the only things lighting up the only room in sight (it was a small hovel) were a pair of candles and an old lightbulb from which a warm light emanated.

However, the Thunderbird’s figure was still pretty noticeable, right in front of Kasumi’s eyes, although the only thing she had a clear view of was her back.

The poor girl was leaning forward, hissing; when Kasumi’s eyes got used to the darkness of their surroundings, the reason for this was clear; the spot from which her wings grew was stained with blood, and Kasumi could see a lot of small feather tips peeking among her flesh.

Kasumi grimaced, feeling a sudden itch in her own skin.

The Thunderbird’s wings were probably growing, and it looked as painful as it sounded.

Groaning, the girl placed her hand on her back and scratched it in a pretty aggressive manner, first _around_ her wings; then, when she dared to move towards them, her fingers found one feather that was halfway out and seemed to be annoying her more than it should’ve had.

When Kasumi guessed her intentions, she feared for the worst…and that worst happened anyways, because the Thunderbird took the feather and, mercilessly, pulled it out with a suffocated scream; the black feather didn’t came out clean, as the part she had ripped from her wing was soaked in a dark-red, dense liquid.

Kasumi knew what it was, but at the same time she was disgusted enough to even think about it.

Trying not to gag, she made one step back, even if she didn’t want to leave yet.

Things didn’t go as planned because, soon, her foot found what it seemed to be a very loud candy wrapper and stepped on it. Next thing she knew, was that there were a pair of electric-yellow, alert and dilated eyes staring into the depths of her soul.

Every inch of courage Kasumi had been saving for this moment melted inside of her body, abandoning her as if it had never been there in the first place.

“I…I’m sorry…I-I…I…”

“What are you doing here?” The already terrifying eyes turned bolder as she got up, showing a body that was a good amount of inches taller than Kasumi, and a face staring at her from above. “How did you find me?”

The Thunderbird’s tone made her feel as small as ever. Terrified. Alone; however, her hands managed to find the pockets of her pajamas, and the locket necklace with the broken clasp wrapped itself around her fingers immediately.

When she showed it to girl in front of her, those breathtaking eyes morphed once again, turning into an odd hybrid between confusion and shock, which, at least to Kasumi, were essentially the same thing but at the same time they weren’t.

“You…dropped this the other night.” Kasumi said in a high-pitched voice. “You… you hit one of the Nannies with it. And she put it in her office, so I…recovered it for you.”

The Thunderbird blinked, as she accepted her necklace back, examining it, as if she were trying to discern whether that was her necklace or not.

“You stole it from your Nanny.” She said, more as a confirmation than as a question, which made Kasumi feel guilty, although maybe she shouldn’t have, because she had just taken back an object that didn’t belong to the Nanny in the first place.

But, technically, she was right; she had sneaked in into the office with a key she didn’t have permission to use, looked around the drawers until she found the necklace and took it, again, without permission. That’s why she evaded the topic at all costs and limited herself to say:

“I’m Kasumi.”

The Thunderbird arched her eyebrow sharply, but after a couple of seconds, she tightened her fist around the necklace.

“Tamaya.” She said in a dry tone.

-.-

By this hour, aka already past midnight, the cathedral always smelled like incense. However, in those rare occasions when a very stubborn and specific idea got into Alec’s head, the whole building would be smelling like tea.

This time it was linden tea.

Could’ve been worse. Leroy knew that.

Sometimes it was raspberry tea, and that had such a strong smell it made him dizzy…and that was a lot to say because Leroy was used to strong and even toxic smells.

Maybe it was just the fact he really didn’t like raspberries.

But either way, back to Alec, he wanted him to stop, because sometimes having to deal with him was exhausting.

Right now there was a small cup floating next to him, as Alec refused to face Leroy, staring out the window, his hands laced behind his back; he looked calm, with an almost solemn air at the city he had conquered, standing fiercely in the distance, still illuminated despite a great percentage of its population was supposed to be asleep by now.

Alec took a deep breath and, once again, he didn’t touch his tea, so Leroy straightened his back, in case the image of him just standing there without doing anything would bother him (Alec was really unpredictable sometimes).

“Is there anything I can do for you to make you feel more comfortable…Ace?”

His body went up and down to the rhythm of his breath, but Alec remained unresponsive for a while. At least, until he finally decided to take the cup directly off the air and took a sip from it, slow, barely annoyed by the steam that announced the liquid inside was still very hot to the touch.

“She has already been located, hasn’t she?”

Maybe a regular person…

No.

Maybe _another_ Anarchist would’ve taken the liberty to flinch or even show the minimal anxiety signs, but not Leroy, for the mere reason he knew that showing fear in front of Alec, most of the time, was a double-edged sword.

A risk Leroy was never willing to take because he wasn’t that big of an idiot.

So, for his own sake, he kept a neutral face and posture.

“She has been located.” He confirmed.

“If it is so: Would you be so kind to explain why our offer hasn’t been taken to her yet?”

Alec’s olive eyes found Leroy’s gaze, and he held it instead of lowering his’.

“We were waiting for your orders.”

Alec scoffed in response, before focusing his attention back in the window.

Leroy scratched his own chin, almost hurting a fresh scar with his nails by accident.

“Shall we go look for her?”

“Oh! Look for whom?”

This time, Leroy did flinch as the sound of that disgustingly refined and fake sweet voice filled, _invaded,_ their surroundings.

Honey Harper entered the room as if the floor were a runway, leaving a trace of the cloying odor of her perfume right behind her, penetrating it into Leroy’s clothes (that would take _hours_ to come off).

Her blonde curls bounced in an almost evenly and, for instance, inhuman way around her head, and Leroy had no other choice but to step aside to let her through, because he was not in the mood to have one of her high heel shoes shoved into his foot.

“We’re still looking for the flying chicken, aren’t we?”

Leroy rolled his eyes up to the heavens, but Alec moved his gaze towards her in an almost automatic manner (because he always knew what he was doing. _Always)_. An amused, almost genuine grim glowing in his face as he analyzed her without even having to stare at her from head to toe.

“Queen Bee.” Alec pronounced. “You sure are looking stunning tonight.”

Honey shook her hand in fake modesty, allowing a delicate chuckle to escape her mouth.

“Shall we go look for her, Acey?”

Ugh.

Leroy hated it when she called him like that, and this time it was no exception.

“And who offered you an invitation to the mission? Because I can’t recall that person being me.” Leroy said, under his breath.

“It’s not like I _need_ one. And if I needed one…which, again, I don’t, certainly I wouldn’t accept it from _you_ , my dear Cyanide.”

“That is no way to treat a lady, Cyanide. We better calm down a little, is that alright?” Alec smiled for the first time in the last couple of hours, as he finally took the cup and kept it in his hands, before placing it in the closest nightstand. A sign he was finally cooling down a little.

If they were lucky enough, nobody would have to die tonight.

“You two go ahead.”

But, of course, he had to send him there with Honey Harper. Because Honey Harper was an _essential_ element with all that wiggling around and the irritating “tic, tic, tic” sound her heels made every damn time she took a step.

Absolutely essential.

Necessary.

Where on Earth would they be without her?

“I think it’s about time you stop eating like a rich old man all day, Cyanide. You’re getting fat.” She sang as they walked through the hallway, which caused Leroy to stop, while she kept going with a triumphant smile drawn in her honey-covered lips, inside her own plus-sized body.

She really thought she had won, but in reality Leroy wanted her to walk away so they wouldn’t be standing side by side.

“Good thing it’s a flying chicken what we’re going after.” He said, slowly.

“I can’t hear you, Leroy!”

“You certainly know how to chase chickens.”

-.-

Hugh could already feel Georgie freaking out and he hadn’t even told her how much money he had spent in Simon’s medicines.

It had been…a lot, to say the least.

If they weren’t willing to notify Simon’s parents, they would have to skip at least two meals before they recovered.

Yet, Hugh didn’t regret it.

He’d rather skip a couple of meals before keeping on neglecting Simon’s health like that.

The moment he closed the drugstore’s door behind him, Hugh put the white bag inside his hoodie, before confirming a couple of times nobody was following or stalking him. As sad and ridiculous as it sounded, carrying medicine in Gatlon’s streets was more dangerous than carrying jewelry.

Ace Anarchy and his Anarchists liked to pretend they were in a more favorable situation now but, at least to Hugh’s eyes, they were still drowning in misery.

And the worst part was that nobody was doing anything to fix it.

Let the prodigies to keep on dying, they said.

Maybe that way Ace Anarchy will have nobody else to keep fighting for and he’ll finally surrender.

Hugh sighed; a sighed that almost turned into a groan, and the he put the hood over his head as he started walking towards the Westwood house direction.

However, not longer than a minute had passed, when he heard the roar of an engine, and a strong breeze hit him right in the face, followed by the feeling of…something hitting his right cheek.

He hissed, annoyed, and when all the smoke and the flying dust dispersed, Hugh finally opened his eyes, only to find a dead bee right by his feet.

The poor little buddy had probably died while trying to sting him.

But…

A bee.

At midnight.

Why would a bee…?

Hugh frowned when realization hit him; he looked back at the car that still speeded in the distance and, somehow, he _knew_.

Narrowing his yes, he put the hood back on and started running after it, while praying to the odds Georgie still had the situation under control back at home.

-.-

Kasumi had always had the impression that the Thunder—

 _Tamaya_ could use a friend.

Meeting her personally did nothing but confirm that.

She really was lonely, because it didn’t take much time for them to get along; in fact, Kasumi had been here less than an hour and she was already braiding Tamaya’s hair, although her body was rigid, as if she were still scared of Kasumi somehow.

Her new acquired friend was just starting to relax when they heard the noise.

It wasn’t a very scary or unknown one, but it was rather loud, so both their faces turned immediately towards the entrance.

A slamming door from a car, Kasumi guessed, and that sent a chill down her spine.

Tamaya, however, got distraught in an almost immediate way. 

She took Kasumi’s hands off her (but not as violently as Kasumi expected) and, for some reason, unbraided her hair and even tousled it a little to made it seem like it hadn’t ever been brushed; then, she grabbed Kasumi by the arm. Her hold was firm and even tight.

“What’s wrong?” Kasumi whined.

“Hide.” Tamaya whispered, already helping her get under the rusty hospital bed she slept in. “Don’t come out until I tell you. They can’t see you near me. They’ll kill you.”

Kasumi stopped breathing, trying to figure out what she meant.

Then, when she saw her feet as she walked away, Kasumi remembered, and a wave of panic invaded her.

She had forgotten to tell Tamaya she was a prodigy too.

But right now it was too late, so Kasumi stayed there, trying to obey, and trying to ignore the fact she was seeing every type of bugs walking next to her, and even rats.

“My, my.” Kasumi heard a feminine voice. Sweet and melodious, almost as if the person who owned it were trying to sing her words instead of uttering them. “What a shithole.”

Stars. What a vocabulary.

“And you live under _these_ conditions?”

Kasumi tried to find Tamaya, but the only thing she could see were her feet.

“Is there… Anything I can help you with, Queen Bee? Cy…Cyanide?”

She covered her mouth with her hands. She had met Queen Bee before, but not Cyanide. However, Kasumi barely remembered her, as that had happened like two years ago, when she had come into the orphanage, leading a brigade of Anarchists to provide them with some supplies. Nevertheless, one vivid memory Kasumi had of her, was that she wasn’t the kindest person somebody would have the pleasure to meet.

“Well, as for helping me… I don’t think so, sweetie. I don’t suppose you have any non-toxic tea or any type of non-toxic beverage, right? …of course you don’t.”

“Classy.” This time there was a masculine, boring voice.

“Cyanide, if you’re gonna _insult_ me in front of the kid you might as well be more useful if you wait in the car.”

“Naw. I’m good.”

“Y-yeah but…Uhm…Unfortunately, I don’t have anything to offer you at the moment but…”

“Not even a chair, as far as I’m concerned.”

Tamaya went silent, and Kasumi couldn’t help but feel some sort of sympathy or second-hand embarrassment.

“…I happen not no live under the best conditions, as you….already pointed out. But, if….if I may be helpful for something I…”

“Well.” Queen Bee chuckled. “It’s not that _I_ think you will be helpful for something, but for some reason our leader does. So, congratulations, Thunderbird. You’ve been chosen by Ace Anarchy.”

Her whole being went cold. Kasumi was conscious the city was ruled by Ace Anarchy and a group of …semi-evil (to Kasumi’s perception) prodigies. Now, that was something that perhaps she was actually too young to understand, but she thought they weren’t doing a very good job. Hence, she didn’t understand why there were still running the city.

She had to do something.

She finally had a friend of her own, that would maybe allow her to stay here instead of forcing her back into the orphanage where she would be forced to remain locked up again all the time. Kasumi couldn’t allow her become evil like the rest of them.

But then Tamaya spoke, and Kasumi realized she had never, _ever_ felt so relieved.

“…Oh.” She hesitated. “I…It’s a flattering offer. But I think I’m….good.”

Queen Bee let out a shrill, mocking laugh.

“Sweetheart. I could give you a lot of adjectives for this place you dare to call your home and, trust me, ‘good’ doesn’t make it into that list. Just pack your things and let’s get going.”

“If I may add…”

“No, you may _not_ , Cyanide. I do the talking and you do…whatever thing you’re doing right there. Let’s go, _Demon Bird_. Ace is waiting for us.”

“I…I really don’t want to.” Tamaya dared to say.

And, thanks to the odds, her voice became bolder, just like her eyes when she first stared at Kasumi and doubted she could trust her.

“You can’t make me.”

“Oh, but we can. Who do you think we are?”

“Queen Bee and Cyanide, and you work for Ace Anarchy.” Tamaya’s voice was unsteady and a little shaky, but she was strong, still. “And Ace Anarchy said… t-that…you can’t force prodigies to do anything they don’t want to do. And I don’t want to do this.”

“Clever. You’re educated for a person who lives in a pigsty like this one. But you still have a long way to go; don’t get me wrong, you’re clever, like I said…but at the same time you’re so obnoxiously dumb it makes me wanna punch you. Cyanide, is it wrong to punch a child?”

“Illegal, maybe.”

“Well, I don’t fucking care. I’m part of the law.”

With that being said, the uncomfortable sounds of the night and the voices that were way more full of rage as seconds went by, were replaced by static.

Buzzing.

Bees, Kasumi realized.

“I hope you’re not allergic to bees because, if you are, it’s over for you.”

And, somehow, Kasumi knew that this time she definitely had to do something. Anything.

And that “anything” was clear when she remembered she was her own weapon. So, before she could regret it, Kasumi peeked half her body out.

Cyanide saw her, but for some reason he didn’t say anything. He just stepped back when he saw the decent-sized wave that appeared out of nowhere and slapped Queen Bee right by the side of her body, _so_ hard she even lost control of the army of bees she was aiming at Tamaya and would’ve fallen straight to the ground if Cyanide hadn’t caught her.

For a moment, she seemed shocked, and she even looked kind of funny all soaked and confused, while Kasumi stayed there, watching as her vision became a blur due to the effort.

She had never used her powers this way. She barely used them on purpose and now, somehow, she was exhausted.

Tamaya ran towards her and helped her up, protecting her with her own body; she then went into attack mode, her wings fully displayed in order to cover any sign of Kasumi’s presence… and a physical, flickering….piece? of lightning appeared in her right hand, fierce and terrifying.

And as Queen Bee’s battle cry filled the room, the only thing Kasumi paid attention to was a calm, reassuring:

“You are not to touch her.”

Kasumi saw the bees rushing towards them in slow motion, followed by the electric-yellow light ending with each one of them. Time moved slow, waiting for any of them to lose, while Kasumi held tight to the fabric of Tamaya’s shirt.

Then, steps.

Then, a voice.

A voice that delivered the most unexpected, almost comical message.

“There’s a car rolling down the hill. Is anyone here the owner?”

Queen Bee, with her whole makeup completely melted thanks to the wave Kasumi had thrown at her, fixed the most deathly glare towards Cyanide, who was staring at the person by the door, with his eyes wide open.

Which, Kasumi supposed, was the closest thing to a horror expression he would ever show.

“DO YOU HAVE SHIT INSIDE YOUR SKULL, YOU FUCKING RADIOACTIVE DUNCE?!”

“Must’ve been the hand brake.”

“YOU DRIVE A MANUAL! DO YOU THINK I’M DUMB LIKE YOU OR WHAT?!”

“If you think a car having a hand brake depends on whether it is a manual or an automatic, then yes. I think you’re insufferably, utterly, du—“

**_“GO CATCH THE FUCKING CAR! I FUCKING HATE CHILDREN, GODDAMN!”_ **

And then, just like that, she left.

No.

She _stormed_ towards the outside, hitting the person standing by the door on purpose…although for some reason, Kasumi could see her massaging her own arm afterwards, as if bumping against him had been really painful.

Cyanide took a deep breath, before putting his hands inside his pockets.

“We will inform Ace about your decision. You don’t need to worry about that. It was an offer, not a decree.” He simply said, before joining Queen Bee outside.

Before, somehow, disappearing into the night. A fact they were certain about when the echoes of their verbal fight became so distant they couldn’t even be heard anymore.

Once they reassured they were alone, Tamaya took a really deep breath and, for a millisecond, Kasumi saw her tilting to the side, to which the boy in the door caught her, just like Cyanide had caught Queen Bee a few moments ago.

“You’re…very strong.” Kasumi said, as she imagined that, due to her wings, Tamaya had to weigh at least the same as a person twice her size.

“You were the one who pushed their car.” Tamaya sniffed. She looked really pale, almost sick. “You’re dumb. They’re gonna kill us.”

“Kay’, first of all: You’re welcome.” He groaned. “Second of all: I’m Hugh. And my friend Georgia says you fly like you’re trying to break your spine, which means you’re the dumber one out of us two.”

Hugh (Kasumi wanted to believe he hadn’t lied about his name) helped Tamaya to walk towards the bed and, then, he helped her sit on it.

Kasumi rushed by her side immediately and, out of pure instinct, hugged her as tight as he could. _So_ tight she could feel her breath, her throbbing heartbeat, and her trembling arms as she hugged her back.

“This place is awful.” Hugh said…but not in a hurtful tone like Queen Bee had done, but rather in an almost sympathetic one, as if he were actually concerned for what he was seeing. “Don’t you have anywhere else to go? Somewhere cleaner? You could get sick… and medicine is expensive.”

Kasumi stared at Tamaya, who stared back at her and dedicated her a half-smile, with the intention of assuring her, maybe, that they had each other now. Everything was going to be alright.

“We’re good.” Tamaya said. “We just need to clean it up a bit. We’re…we’re fine.”

Hugh looked around once again, gulping. And this time he did look almost disgusted.

Still not shallow, but disgusted.

“I don’t think so.” He stated. “Simon’s parents don’t care that much about who’s in the house, and Georgie still has space in her bed.”

Nor Tamaya or Kasumi seemed to understand what he was saying, but then Hugh cleared his throat and, without stuttering or hesitating, he said:

“Let’s go home.”


	3. When the Best is Not Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where the heck am I supposed to get that from?”
> 
> “Oh! Oh!” Simon clapped his hands together and even jumped a little as if he were asking for permission to speak in a large crowd. “I know where! From the vending machines!” 
> 
> Vending machines.
> 
> Well, that made sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AFGSHFDGBH HELLOOOOO PALS! <3 
> 
> First of all, I want to thank you SO much for the support last chapter received. I love you all SO much! <3 Idk if I had mentioned before here in Ao3, but I’m going to be uploading every Monday :) and today we’re finally back, with the second chapter! and...there’s not much explanation to do :). Soooo....I hope you enjoy it, and comments are pretty much appreciated!

_**8 years into the Age of Anarchy...** _

Simon’s parents left on a Sunday dawn.

It should have taken them only around three hours to get all their stuff in the truck (it’s not like they owned many things anyway) and maybe a day to get to…wherever they were hiding now, but Hugh pledged he would be mad at them the rest of his life.

Not because of himself, but because of Simon, even though when they came to the collective realization Mr. and Mrs. Westwood had left, Simon seemed unsurprised and a little unaffected, claiming he knew that would happen eventually.

And, to be honest, they all knew. Every parent of a prodigy child did that at some point, because it was easier to run away from the problem than taking care of it like a decent human being would do with the living creature they had willingly put in this Earth.

Yet, being conscious of that didn’t cause Hugh to feel less mad, because Simon didn’t deserve that.

He was a good person who didn’t deserve to be abandoned by his parents, nor by anyone.

Of course, they wouldn’t have been capable to persuade them to stay, but that wasn’t what all of this was about. If they had been a little more sensitive and had the _tiniest_ bit of humanity in their selfish beings, they wouldn’t have thought about leaving in the first place.

But they did.

They felt the need to do it, they planned it and then, without saying a word, they left.

And that day the house felt overwhelmingly huge, but as time went by, it got smaller and smaller until it returned to its original size again. And their situation shaped itself into a pretty bittersweet life with an established routine, sleeping in the basement of the house just because down here was more cozy than up there, not really sure whether someday they would be kicked out of it because the entire city was nobody’s land and properties got stolen all the time.

However, one of the few positive things about Ace Anarchy’s reign was that services were kind of cheap, perhaps because economy had been slowly collapsing for a while now. Of course, all those services were _lousy,_ but at least they could pay them.

Well.

_Georgie and Tamaya_ could pay them, because they were the ones with jobs, arguing the rest of them were _too young._

Maybe Kasumi was too young, but Hugh and Simon weren’t. They were already 14, while Kasumi was only 11.

At least they let them help a little. That is, Georgie always managed (Lord knows how, because getting a legal or even safe job was almost impossible these days) to get jobs in supermarkets or restaurants, but Tamaya’s job was travelling to different cities to sell stuff, from spare parts they had found in dumpsters and managed to turn them into something useful again (that’s what she used to do before moving in to the Westwood house. She didn’t have any help back then, of course) to pieces of chrome…which, obviously, came from Hugh.

Overall, Georgie was very lucky she was so charismatic and likeable. People kept hiring her no matter how much her previous bosses said she was not pleasant to work with. And it’s not that they were telling the truth… it was just that every single time Georgie had been fired from a job, it had been because she had gotten a little too distracted/had talked too much and her co-workers had noticed she was a prodigy.

Which was, obviously, a disgrace to the business, because being a prodigy was an automatic synonym to _not being pleasant to work with._

Because _of course_ all prodigies had an Anarchist mindset.

Bullshit.

Shaking that thought out of his head, Hugh took another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Once again, he realized how stupid it was to tell him he wasn’t allowed to be the one to slam the TV with his fist to get it to work. Simon’s argument was that he was an absolute hothead who would be capable of breaking the TV if he lost control for a minute.

That wasn’t entirely true; Hugh knew how dangerous his powers could be, and he always tried his best to have self-control.

Right now, Tamaya was the one slamming the TV while Simon moved the rabbit ear antenna from one side to the other.

Again, this would’ve been easier if they would just allow Hugh to do it, but they refused to every time, so, at this point, Hugh just decided to stare and wait.

The dancing black and white stripes kept on blocking the screen, and Hugh chuckled.

“You’re doing great.” He said, which caused Tamaya to fix a glare on him, but Simon didn’t even acknowledge him.

It was in that moment that they heard the front door as it opened, and Georgie appeared in the living room. She certainly had looked worse, but that didn’t change the fact this time she looked defeated…to say the least.

She had her hair down, and Hugh figured that, perhaps, her hair band had finally given up in life, given that her hair, besides being beautiful, was very heavy; as for the rest of her body, she also had some scratches and small bruises that were starting to turn purple. She looked like she had gotten into a fight with a stray cat.

“Though day?” Simon smiled at her, without taking his attention off the antenna.

“Yeah. I guess that’s one way to put it.”

Georgie groaned as she threw herself into the sofa, massaging her right foot.

“Too much for a family-friendly supermarket job.” Hugh chuckled, to which Georgie smiled, before getting up again.

She walked barefoot towards the kitchen, in silence, and for a moment the only thing Hugh could hear was her voice saying hi to Kasumi, who probably was coming up with some random dessert they would later force themselves to eat because they couldn’t afford wasting ingredients this way.

Meanwhile, after a relatively strong slam, the TV showed cooperation signs.

Hugh flinched, thinking they probably were going to be able to watch some TV in peace, but once again his plans and thoughts were interrupted, as Georgie stood by the kitchen door with a tired frown and asked:

“Which one of you finished the milk?”

That’s when it hit him.

Right in the face.

And his gaze went down, straight to the bowl full of cereal he was eating. Which, of course, contained the milk Georgie had purposely hidden at the back of the fridge because she liked to have milk and cookies when she came home from work.

“Hugh!”

“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot, I…! “ He covered his mouth with his palm, because he was chewing. “I _promise_ I didn’t…I must’ve…Ugh. I’ll bring another gallon of milk.”

Georgie had both of her hands around her hips. And it’s not like she looked mad (she rarely got bad at people), but she was…tired. Just that.

She looked like a person who had had a tough day and just wanted her microwaved cookies and her milk, but couldn’t have them because some dunce had stolen said milk from her.

“Rude much?” Georgie clicked her tongue. Not even her biggest effort to smile made the gesture look more genuine.

“Do you want my cereal?”

“Eugh.” Georgie rolled her eyes jokingly. “I’m swimming in cereal boxes every day. Please don’t. “

“You should get going, then. Genius.” Tamaya arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s getting late.”

“I’d rather not.” Georgie grimaced, to which Hugh turned towards her immediately.

“Oh, really?”

“No, I mean, you’ll have to bring something to make it up me, but now I want strawberry milk instead of plain milk.”

Hugh couldn’t help but let a nervous chuckle escape his mouth. Like, he _knew_ what strawberry milk was, and he _knew_ Georgie well enough to be aware of the fact she sometimes had it as her breakfast or even as a snack (“snack” in her words, because that wasn’t even a solid food but a beverage instead). But Hugh, himself, had never tasted that thing before.

“Where the heck am I supposed to get that from?”

“Oh! _Oh!_ ” Simon clapped his hands together and even jumped a little as if he were asking for permission to speak in a large crowd. “I know where! From the vending machines!”

Vending machines.

Well, that made sense.

But there was a tiny, _very_ tiny extra detail Simon might’ve missed.

“The vending machines from…where?”

“Oh.” Simon tapped his fingers on his chin. “Well…In any vending machine that has beverages you can find, I guess. Uhm…but the vending machines from the subway station are cheaper.”

“You sure know a lot about vending machines, don’t you?” Tamaya tilted her head to the side. “Have these two been slaving you around to get food while we’re not at home?”

“No!” Simon chuckled. “But sometimes that’s where I get my _Maltesers_ from. So…that’s a thing.”

Hugh couldn’t help but smile; sometimes, when Simon had to explain something, _anything,_ he turned into a bundle of nervousness, even if he had been previously upbeat. It was something pretty…adorable, even amusing to watch.

“I could go with you if you want to.” Simon cleared his throat.

“Sure, that would be great!”

“Oh, really?!”

“Yeah, sure!”

“Fiiine, but get going, guys, let’s _go!_ ” Tamaya snapped her fingers, to which Georgie chuckled. “What did I just say? It’s getting _late._ ”

Tamaya was _so_ bossy it was annoying sometimes, but Hugh refused to blame her only because he knew where she was coming from; although she wasn’t living in a deplorable condition anymore, the damage was already done, so she was extremely paranoid about everything, to say the least.

So, before she could get any angrier, Hugh took another spoonful of cereal (He would have to apologize to Georgie once again when they came back, because she even massaged her temples when she saw him eating cereal that contained _her_ milk) and reached for his hoodie and his false glasses, while Simon went downstairs to bring his scarf and his beanie.

A couple of seconds later, they were outside the house, heading towards the closest subway station, which was more or less 30 minutes away by foot (They could’ve gotten in a bus or a taxi, but Georgie and Tamaya considered that an unnecessary waste of money).

(Easy for them to say. They could fly).

On the other hand, he was with Simon, so he couldn’t complain.

Simon always managed to make everything less horrible, and he didn’t even have to try.

Not for Hugh, at least.

In fact, he had to try _so_ little that even walking next to him made that half an hour feel less monotonous, with all that small talk and little comments about the city, like “Look, Hugh, there’s a bird there! Why is there a bird on a lamppost at night?” or “Do you think Tamaya would get mad if I buy her a hot dog? She says she’s never tried them because they’re expensive.”

It’s just that….

Simon had something.

Something that caused Hugh to get madder at his parents for abandoning him every time he thought about it.

Simon deserved better.

And Hugh expected to someday be able to make it up to him.

That was his job as his best friend.

-.-

Upon arriving to the subway station, it was very noticeable they had arrived just in time for the last peak hour, which at least for them made perfect sense because it sort of coincided with Georgie’s schedule.

Since they were surrounded by so many people, Simon grabbed Hugh by the fabric of his hoodie.

And it was odd, to say the least, because Simon was supposed to be the one to lead the way (he knew where to find the vending machines). On the other hand, he knew Simon wasn’t that big of a fan of crowded spaces, so he just followed his instructions until they got close to one of the trains.

There, against the wall, was a vending machine which, even if it looked kind of rusty, did look better than nothing at all.

Once they were in front of it, looking through the glass, Hugh found the strawberry milk, which was located at the bottom of the machine, alongside the other beverages. It was also, indeed, cheaper than he had expected, to the point they wouldn’t need to use a bill to pay for it.

“Do you have change?” He asked Simon.

In response, his friend took his hand into his pocket and then provided Hugh with some coins, which he then put inside the machine and proceeded to introduce the code for the strawberry milk.

They stared at the machine as the circular started, just like two small children would stare at their favorite cartoon in the TV; they stared as the lock started spinning, slowly, as if they had all the time in the world.

And it spun, and spun, ant it stopped.

And the milk didn’t fall.

Hugh scoffed.

“What a scam. “

“Uhm. Weird. This never happened to me before. We should go look for another vending machine.”

Simon straightened his back, with the intention to start walking, but as soon as he noticed Hugh remained in the same position, he asked:

“You coming or what?”

Hugh stared at his reflection on the glass. Then, his attention was drawn back to his own reflection and, consequently, at the stuck strawberry milk.

And Hugh smiled, because he knew what to do.

“Naw.” He said.

“Stars, Hugh.” Simon got closer to him again. Hugh could hear resignation in his voice, but at the same time nervousness.

“Just… don’t go too hard on it, will you? We’re in public.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be careful.”

He waited until the lady who was passing by was far from their sight (probably already inside the wagon) and it was then that Hugh cracked his knuckles, grabbed the machine by each side and shook it as if it didn’t weigh a pound.

When you were a prodigy, every time you used your powers you could feel something like a spark burning inside of you. It was terrifying when you were still getting used to it, but once you came into terms with the fact this was just another part of you, it felt incredible.

Hugh liked to believe that was what freedom felt like, and he loved it.

Sadly, it also stopped him from being capable to control his powers; so, just like Simon (and himself too…a little) expected, he went a little bit overboard. Suddenly, the bottom of the vending machine was full of junk food, and carton drinks.

Right in front of their eyes.

In a crowded room where, fortunately, everybody was too busy minding their own business to notice.

Simon, however, was gawking. A dark veil of utter, ruthless terror decorating his face.

“…. _Holy smokes, Hugh.”_

And, against all odds, Hugh laughed.

Just because he didn’t know what else he should do.

“Isn’t it cool?”

“BRO! Like…It’s…It’s noooot (???)” Simon started cackling, although Hugh could feel the panic flowing out of him.

The take-out port, overflowing with stuff, appeared to be staring back at them, waiting for any of the two to come up with a quick solution before somebody could actually notice.

“Hugh.” Simon said, already shaking a little. “What do we do, _Hugh_?”

“Ssssh. Relax.” Hugh laughed, wrapping an arm around Simon’s neck.

In response, for some reason, Simon lowered his head, as if he were trying to hide among his scarf like a turtle. He was pale, and got even paler when a pair of men in suits passed by, chatting with each other.

“Ohmygodwhatdowedo?”

“Heeeeey.” Hugh finally let go and pinched his cheek. “We didn’t murder anyone, okay? We’re just gonna take the drugs…”

“DRUGS?!” Simon snapped, before putting his hands against is mouth, _so_ hard it almost sounded like he had slapped himself.

His eyes moved around the place, checking if somebody had noticed.

Because, honestly, if anyone had noticed _that_ , it would’ve been embarrassing.

To his luck, they clearly were still going unnoticed.

“Hey. Breathe.” Hugh smiled, amused, grabbing him by the wrists. “It was only a joke, alright? I’m sorry…I know you’re nervous and I shouldn’t have said that. Just…breathe.”

Simon gulped as he started nodding, slowly as he could. By maintaining his hold, Hugh felt the exact moment when Simon’s pulse steadied, and then he said, way more calm:

“Let’s get this over with. We’re gonna take what we paid for and then we’ll leave…like this never happened. Everything clean. Everything legal. We good?”

“Roger.” Hugh winked and smirked at him; to proceed, he turned around to kneel in front of the vending machine.

Mercilessly, Hugh put his arm inside of the take-out port, while Simon stared everywhere, frantic, as if Hugh were committing a felony and he was in charge to wait at the door and notify him in case he saw cops.

Hugh held the box with his free hand, narrowing his eyes to look inside the port, until he saw a little, pink carton and reached for it, his tongue sticking out his mouth, and resting on his upper lip.

Sure, he promised Simon not to take out anything else, but in the moment he had the opportunity to grab another bag, he took it with no hesitation.

It wasn’t until he was back on his feet that he noticed that what he had taken out besides the strawberry milk, was a bag of dolphin-shaped gummies.

Simon’s face lost tension almost immediately.

“Oh. Kasumi would like those.”

“Welp. You know what Ace Anarchy said.” Hugh faked a heroic pose. “ _It’s free real es—“_

Simon snorted.

“Stop. He never said that.”

“But that’s what he did.” Hugh smiled, as he approached Simon and put the gummy bag inside of his hoodie. “Besides, I don’t’ think anyone will notice.”

“Yeah…” Simon took a deep breath as he scratched the back of his neck. “No one will notice.”

And, for a second, it seemed to Hugh that they weren’t talking about the same thing, making him feel a little confused.

“What’s wrong?” Hugh asked in a slow, soothing voice, trying to get into Simon’s nerves as little as he could.

But Simon flinched anyway.

“O-oh…no…nothing, it’s just…”

His voice went inexistent and, suddenly, Hugh noticed his eyes had gone dark and were fixated on a very specific focal point.

Hugh then followed his gaze, which led to the closest wagon, straight to the men in the gabardines. Hugh arched his eyebrow, perfectly conscious about where Simon’s suspicion was coming from.

“Do you still have change?” He asked him.

Simon nodded and, after paying for their tickets, _Hugh’s_ tickets, they climbed on the train.

-.-

For a while, everything seemed calm. That is, if they didn’t want to count the suffocating cigarette smell emanating from the men’s clothes.

But, well, that wasn’t that suspicious on its own whatsoever. Perhaps a little annoying, but not suspicious, and when they were met with nothing but the regular monotony of a subway trip, Hugh started to think that they might’ve gotten the wrong idea.

Until then the power went off at plain sight, and the train stopped.

Just like that.

The indistinct chatter started in a blink; confused and annoyed passengers started asking each other what on Earth was happening; why was the power gone; why had they stopped.

That’s when Hugh felt the person next to him moving.

One of the men in gabardines.

He said something. His voice hoarse and low, _almost_ as if he were speaking like that to hide his real tone and pitch.

“Everybody calm down. I’m gonna go check what’s wrong.”

_Sure you will._

Once his eyes got used to the darkness, Hugh managed to see the other man, sitting right in front of Simon (although he didn’t know that. In fact, nobody knew Simon was here, not even the cashier) as he got up to follow his peer, all the way through the cabin, in silence.

If they were out of power, it meant that the doors would stay shut closed until the unit was provided with electricity again, but they had no time to loose, so in the moment he managed to see Simon appear out of nowhere and nod at him, Hugh rushed towards one of the doors to open them by force.

In Hugh’s experience, that wasn’t very difficult. On the contrary, the difficult part of the process was being able to do it quietly. Because, in addition, in the very moment the passengers noticed there was something wrong, their chatter stopped; it vanished into thin air, so there was nothing to suffocate the sounds of the gates being forced open.

“Do I evacuate them?” A voice without a body filled his ears, and Hugh’s tired lungs felt relaxed for a bit.

A little bit, before he had to speak, saying:

“Please be careful.”

“You too.”

That being said, Hugh started walking through the path the two men had previously followed, a little nervous but determined, until he reached the door.

Trying to ignore the background noise, cause by some people refusing to follow Simon’s orders (Hugh sometimes wondered why people felt the need to be so annoyingly stubborn, as if obeying someone who was trying to help them would crush their egos) he pushed the cabin’s door a little.

No movement.

Hugh pushed a little harder.

Still nothing.

He came to the conclusion, then, that it probably had been blocked from the inside, using some type of barricade.

And, well, two could play that game.

Hugh stepped back, maybe a little further than he should’ve had. And, before he could get any remorseful or insecure thoughts, he ran towards the metallic door, hitting it with the side of his body.

Once again, the spark grew bigger and bigger inside of him, and it burned. Hotter and hotter. Faster and faster. Bolder and bolder.

By the time Hugh realized he had gone overboard again, it was too late.

The door was already on the floor, along with the fragment of the train it had been attached to.

When he was in synch with his surroundings again, he noticed that all the eyes in the cabin were on him. On his fortunately hooded face.

At least six different pair of eyes, whose owners had gagged the driver of the cabin and put him aside, in one of the corners of the small control center; cold sweat running down his temples and forehead.

One of the men, who wasn’t wearing a gabardine but _was_ wearing a black balaclava, was the first one to shoot.

The bullet bumped against Hugh’s chest (Sweet rot, what an excellent aim). It caused him, perhaps, barely a little itchiness that could easily be confused with tickles, before falling to the ground; a delicate string of steam coming out of it.

“What the fuck?” The man spoke.

And it seemed like, instead of providing them with a clear clue that wasn’t going to work, it only made them try harder.

First it was a lot of guns pointing at him; then, a lot of small bullets flying _towards_ his body.

Hugh was hit by each one of them, yes, but he still remained unharmed. And the spasm he felt in his lips notified him he was smiling.

Smiling to himself.

Smiling to _them._

In retrospect, it shouldn’t have surprised him they went berserk.

Hugh would’ve also been mad if he were a 40 year old man and a 14 year old teenage boy were out powering him.

Now, that could hurt a person’s ego.

Under the enraging realization it was a prodigy who they were against, one of them ran towards Hugh, stamping him against the wall (Well…one of the walls the door hadn’t taken with it). He felt a calloused hand grabbing him by the hair, and…well, it’s not that Hugh knew much about combat (not yet) but he didn’t need to be that smart to recognize this tactic; so, before he could have his head repeatedly slammed against the wall, Hugh pushed his body back with his palms, with such strength the man fell to the ground.

The next one came to him like a furious bull a breath after that.

Their hands interlocked for a second before he joined his partner on the floor, after Hugh purposely pushed him back with all he had. Which, to be honest, was way more than what a regular human being had.

And they remained there, immobile.

Hugh started to wonder whether they were still alive or not, but before he could dive deep into that question he felt the pressure caused by the sudden movement of the train; the lights were still off, but they were moving again…and at full speed.

He tried to think of himself as the heaviest human being that had ever stepped on this Earth; heavy enough that not even something like that could cause him to loose balance.

But even if he put his mind into it, it didn’t work.

Hugh fell to the ground anyway. So fast he didn’t even get the chance to willingly use his powers.

Once he was lying there, the world spun around his head like the dancing cups from Cosmopolis Park.

One station. Another one.

The speed began to decrease, only a little.

And a voice.

_The_ voice.

“CHROMIUM?!”

_Simon._

Oh, thank the odds he was okay.

“Warden!”

“Who the fuck is he talking to?!”

“Someone….Someone’s changing the direction of the rails! We’re gonna crash against a dead end, you _must_ get out of there!”

Hugh tried to get back on his feet, stumbling. It was hard to breathe, as he was still recovering from the sudden exposition to that much speed.

“DID YOU GET THEM ALL OUT?!”

“Err…n-not quite.”

Hugh waited for him to say something, _anything,_ but after that one last line, all he got was silence. Hugh knew why. He really did.

“THEY WOULDN’T LISTEN! I TRIED TO….I-I TRIED TO…! “

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not your fault.” Hugh finally found the balance he, for some reason, thought had lost forever.

There was no time.

“Hold on to me now!”

Another shower of bullets followed them, trying to hit the invisible voice Hugh talked to with so much familiarity. When he felt a human body with more or less half his corporal mass trying to climb on his back, Hugh breathed again.

_He was okay._

_He was alive._

_He was okay._

_He was still here._

“Here we go.” Hugh said under his breath.

A kick on the main door, which at the same time hit the person who was in charge of guarding it.

A leap, in a strangely correct moment.

Simon’s weigh off his back.

The dead end right before his eyes.

His legs giving all they had to run after the train.

His palms on the boiling hot machine. The vibrations of the engine against the sensitive skin of his hands.

His feet against the irregular ground with the rails, clinging on them like a child would cling on their old blanket.

The sweat rolling down his face, just like it rolled down that man’s face.

A spark.

_Here we go._

The hoodie on his head.

What freedom felt like.

What being able to be a prodigy without being killed felt like.

A spark, and then a flame.

Then electric power that ran through his veins along with his blood.

Blinding. Powerful. Fearless.

His hands penetrating the train. Metal against metal.

His feet making holes in the ground.

The sound of the engine that refused to go off.

The wave of dread falling onto his shoulders like a rock the size of a planet.

A cry of war.

Exhaustion.

And…

Arms.

Trembling, insecure arms around him.

Around his body.

Around everything he was.

The familiar smell of mint and…home.

_Him._

Him who deserved better.

Him that, for all Hugh cared, would not die tonight.

Another cry of war. His insides bursting into flames.

His legs, strong as ever, moving.

His arms, strong as ever, pushing.

A shrill, violent and turbulent riddle.

The smoke coming out from the engine.

The engine that, once and for all, had gone quiet.

Hugh felt his clothes against his damp body, breathing heavily, as he felt the still shaky, invisible hand over his shoulder.

“Y-you know…You know what Ace Anarchy said…” Simon’s weak and broken voice filled his ears. “ _If it’s going against you, break it._ ”

A tired, yet genuine chuckle escaped Hugh as he watched the monstrous, immobile vehicle in front of him.

“Sure as fuck he didn’t say that.”

“But that’s what he did.”

The smoke started to drift apart from his vision, and he felt…peaceful, almost numb.

He was already thinking about another stupid joke that would’ve easily gotten both of them killed, when he heard someone clearing their throat.

His head followed the direction of the sound and, even if he couldn’t see Simon, he figured he had done that too.

Right there, on a bench inside the station, there was a girl. Dark skin, coily hair, huge dark eyes, dressed in shorts, tennis shoes and a blue skin-tight shirt one could’ve used to practice gymnastics.

She was young.

Very young.

From what Hugh could calculate, she was even younger than Kasumi.

“Hi.” Hugh greeted, still short of breath.

“Hello.” The kid tilted her head to the side, shifting her legs into a butterfly position.

Needless to say, Hugh was already creeped out by her.

He wasn’t one to believe in ghosts or specters, but just by this brief interaction, he was starting to think she was a wandering soul of the subway tunnels.

“Is there…uhm…” Hugh coughed. “Do you need help? Are you injured?”

“No. Not injured.” She said. For a voice so childish, she sounded strangely mature. “I do, however, have a question.”

Hugh blinked. Confused.

“Go ahead, then.” He answered anyway.

Why the fuck was she so calm?

“Thank you.” She cracked her knuckles against her chin, and then went ahead.

“Have you ever listened to the sound of a cork?”

A cork.

Those things fancy and expensive beverages came with instead of a metal or plastic cap. He knew what a cork looked what because he wasn’t stupid, nor did he live beneath a rock.

But he was sure as fuck he had never owned any bottle that came with a cork.

“Uhm…no?”

“It’s this one. “

Staring directly into his eyes, the kid clicked her tongue.

It caused a loud sound.

_Almost_ obnoxiously loud, he dared to say, due to the echoes.

However, Hugh was just starting to think about how to phrase the question “What the fuck has gotten into your head?” in a family-friendly way, when he heard Simon gasp.

He felt his nails in his skin, through the fabric of his hoodie, and it didn’t take Hugh much more to understand Simon was telling him it was time to run.

So they ran as fast as they could, towards the next tunnel, where they both fell to the ground, Hugh covering Simon’s body with his’.

Just in the moment the smell of smoke filled the air.

Just in the moment the deafening “Boom!” echoed in their surroundings, resonating above the deathly and panicking screams of those who were still inside the wagon.

Just in the moment the train exploded right in front of their eyes.

-.-

A very distraught Georgie was waiting for them at the door when they got home. By bus, because walking ended up not being appetizing at all after all that madness.

Simon tried to hand the strawberry milk to her (which surprisingly was still in a pretty good condition) and she accepted it, but she proceeded to hug them as tight as she could, telling them how glad she was they were okay, actions that were repeated by Kasumi and Tamaya (Yes. Tamaya too).

And, again, that was another thing that shouldn’t have surprised Hugh, because the news were everywhere already.

An attack to a train. Dangerous prodigies. Heroic Anarchists.

And no.

By “heroic Anarchists”, they didn’t mean _them_. Simon and Hugh.

They meant the _kid._

A trap.

Of course, that’s all it was.

Hugh covered his eyes in frustration, as Georgie rubbed his back in a soft, motherly way.

“You’re doing your best, darling.” She told him, grabbing his hand with the one she had free. “We all are.”

Hugh stared at the TV. At the horrid images of the subway tunnels and the body count.

Yes, they were doing their best.

All those rumors about a kid that helped control floods; about The Thunderbird that apparently wasn’t as bad as everyone thought and helped poor communities with all she could; about a flying lady that had stopped many robberies and murders from happening; about the prodigy without a body; about the prodigy with super strength.

That’s what everyone thought.

Poor kids, they thought. They’re doing their best.

“…It’s not enough.” Hugh groaned, sniffing. “Sometimes the best is not enough.”

Simon, who was sitting on the carpet next to Kasumi, directed a reassuring smile towards him.

Tired, yet hopeful.

“Perhaps someday it will be.”

Perhaps.

But not today.

-.-

She was standing, firmly, in the middle of the room, her hands laced behind her back, as she heard the shoes walking from one way to another.

Then Ace Anarchy stopped, with a proud grin lighting up his face.

“I must admit I am impressed by your skills.” He said. “The way the situation was handled was outstanding. _Flawless_. In these type of circumstances, a person must come up with an immediate alternative. One must develop the ability to think fast…something you evidently have.”

He chuckled.

“ _Of course._ You are strong, yet you are _so_ young, like your parents. We will be thrilled to have you joining us, Ingrid Thompson.”

Ingrid already knew that. She knew she had succeeded.

But still, when she heard those words being said out loud, she couldn’t help but feel proud.

“Detonator.” She corrected, sure of herself, confident and, once again, validated by Ace Anarchy, who responded with a smile and a solemn bow.

_If it’s going against you, break it._

Excellent advice.


	4. Guinea Pig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David Artino didn’t know why inside the cathedral it was always cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I forget to post the chapters on here? aghsjafgha yes :') I'M SORRY AGSHJA
> 
> LIKE. I'M SORRY. 
> 
> But here I am :') and I'm going to post like...a lot of chapters at once because they're already on tumblr, to make it up to anyone who's reading this X'D So here we go :') . I'M SORRY AGAIN. But thank you so much for the support :')

_**9 years into the Age of Anarchy…** _

David Artino didn’t know why inside the cathedral it was always cold.

Maybe it was the fact that the walls were made out of stone or something like that, but it was always colder than in the outside. And it was _dark,_ even if out there it was still sunny.

However, David couldn’t complain.

There were people dying in the outside world; people without a home.

He was lucky he had a place to live, and that he hadn’t lost his entire family yet; but the double-edged sword here was that his family, the _only_ family he had left was Ace Anarchy. _The_ guy.

Not that he could complain about that either, of course.

Besides, Alec had point and a cause and both of them were right to a certain extent; nowadays he was seen as a villain (even if he refused to acknowledge that and tried to make them see they were wrong every time he had the chance) but David hadn’t given up on him.

Not yet.

Because David, a prodigy himself, knew what it felt like to be mistreated, pointed at and blamed for having been born with certain abilities or traits, that is: something you couldn’t control, nor had you asked for; it was unfair and heartless.

Thanks to Alec, prodigies had rights now; maybe not as many as regular people had, but at least they had access to most of the public services and public places (because, yes, before Alec, they were straight-up banned from them) and, in theory, killing a prodigy had actual repercussions instead of the punishment being a single slap on the wrist.

His objectives had initially been to remove the negative connotation from the word “prodigy” (because if they wanted to portray them as the absolute scum of the Earth, they could’ve at least chosen an offensive word to refer to them instead of “prodigies”) and to remind society that change and adaptation was more positive and feasible than rejection and erasure; Alec had raised his voice for all those who were too scared to do it or didn’t even have a voice anymore.

For all of those who had been killed, harassed, forced out of their homes or even their towns. Alec had used his voice to speak up for prodigies like himself, like David, like Cyanide or Queen Bee (whose powers were trauma-induced in the first place. Now, _that_ was unfortunate); he had rebuilt the city to start from scratch and make it a place those prodigies could live in, where their powers weren’t an issue and didn’t revoke them from the right to be treated like a human being.

It took a lot of guts to do that, but Alec had been the one to have them.

And David…

David had been the one to be in the same womb Alec had been, 13 years after him.

The world, once again, was full of double-edged swords.

Which, talking about that, it was pretty difficult to fabricate swords, and David was glad they hadn’t asked him to do that today.

A few hours ago, Rat had given him a design for a new weapon, which, to David’s eyes, looked just like any other regular gun, with the exception it was practically indestructible, like many of the Anarchists’ weapons; that’s why sometimes David was considered an essential part of the team, even though he barely did anything outside the cathedral.

Today, evidently, was no different, as David sat in his “office”, with a tread of energy wrapped around his fingers, shining under the light of the candles.

There were days when David wondered how a gift so beautiful could have been considered such an atrocity even before he chose to use it for harmful things. Touching energy made out of stardust was…fascinating. _Almost_ poetic.

Society was exhausting sometimes.

But it’s not like he could do anything about it but wait, anyway.

So that’s what David did every day.

He had been waiting his entire life.

But he trusted Alec.

He trusted Ace Anarchy and the rest of his Anarchists.

With a sigh, David kept on working under the warm light of the candles for one more hour, until somebody came into the room without knocking.

It was Atomic Brain, one of Alec’s closest allies, who, like Alec, was barely ever seen without his suit or using his real name instead of his alias. David couldn’t think of a better word to describe him but “extra”.

Being brutally honest, he didn’t like him very much, but perhaps that was just him, because everyone else seemed not to care that much about him or simply go with the idea of him being of them and, besides, one of Alec’s favorites.

He stood by the center of the room, waiting for some kind of…special greeting (Salutation?) that never came because, yes, he was one of Alec’s most reliable Anarchists, but David was his brother, and he didn’t owe anyone here anything. Not really.

So, when Atomic Brain realized that, he just went ahead without his very anticipated welcome party.

“Please notify your brother that Queen Bee and The Detonator have returned”

-.-

Two days ago, Honey Harper, Ingrid Thompson and some other individuals had been sent in a plane to…fix some trading businesses (take some _special cargo_ to) in an island. They were supposed to return to the cathedral the next day, perhaps in the first hours of the morning. But when they didn’t, David started to think this would be the time they wouldn’t return at all.

And, from what he could see, they had had it closer than everyone wanted to believe; at least that’s what David thought while he sat there, disinfecting Honey’s wounds.

They also had lost some of their companions, and Ingrid herself had been taken to a healer so they could do something with her dislocated clavicle (they didn’t have time for a cast).

If Honey’s wounds didn’t heal in the next few days, she probably was going to have to be taken to a healer too. Especially because she didn’t think about scars as something physically appealing. Not when they were in _her_ skin (Or in Leroy’s, because he had _so_ many, David had been forced to listen to her as she ranted for three hours about how hideous Leroy was. And that was something that had happened not once, but many times).

In fact, David was surprised she wasn’t complaining about the injuries yet. Maybe, for once, she had decided to be aware about the severity of her situation.

David gulped as he gently tapped the cotton pad against her arm, to which she hissed a little, before covering her eyes with her free arm.

Alec was in the room too, sitting on the chair by Honey’s vanity. Just…staring, listening, analyzing.

And, after a while, speaking.

“Was the payment collected?”

Honey took a deep, labored breath as her lips arched in an incredulous smile.

“Oh, dear.” She scoffed as she took her wounded hand out from David’s reach and started removing the now bloodied jewelry from it. It total, she gave David a ring and four bracelets.

David had fabricated each one of those things himself, because Honey Harper saw him as a jewelry vending machine. A vending machine so affordable (free of charge, basically) she could just give him back the “ruined” (mildly stained) jewelry because it _didn’t look good_ anymore. And then force him to make more. Duh.

“I may be powerful but I happen not to be an octopus, as you might have noticed.” She said. “Pardon me for being unwilling to apologize for that.”

David bit his lip to stop a chuckle from coming out. To be fair, Alec had acted pretty insensitive about this whole situation and he certainly had that answer coming. This time, David didn’t blame Honey.

Even Alec himself knew that, because his only response was a respectful nod, unbothered by something he would’ve catalogued as insolence if it had come from someone who wasn’t Honey.

“We caught a distress signal in the control center yesterday’s afternoon. Was that sent by you?”

“Oh, no. They’d wish.” Honey gave her arm back to David so he could go back to help her with her wounds. “I think it was sent by Stalker. I can recall seeing him running towards their control center like the coward he is.”

Stalker was the chief of the island; let’s say he could provide a lot of good resources, but he wasn’t the best client, which often got into Alec’s (and everyone’s) nerves. They just kept making business with him because quality like that wasn’t something you could find everywhere. They had a wide variety of weapons, explosives and even crops (food was scarce sometimes, even for Anarchists, who were considered the privileged class).

“The signal went off after a while. What happened to Stalker?”

David gulped, as he started cutting the gauze into pieces.

It took Honey a couple of seconds to speak again.

“He was very allergic to bee stings.” She finally said, almost under her breath. “It was disgusting. He got bloated like a big, disgusting helium balloon. And his voice sounded like he was a 70 year-old smoker, so I told Millie to silence him.”

Millie wasn’t an Anarchist. In fact, she was part of an independent gang. One of the many contacts Leroy Flinn (Cyanide) had, but undoubtedly the one he trusted the most. They usually called her for jobs like these.

The experience had never been this bad, though.

“And did she?”

Upon hearing and processing the question, Honey’s eyes remained fixated on the ceiling, which was…most likely enough for an answer. She didn’t need to say it out loud for them to understand it.

Of course Millie had silenced him.

Stalker was gone.

“What happened to the rest of the camp? It disappeared from our radar a few hours after Stalker’s distress signal.”

Honey licked her lips.

“Ingrid destroyed it. As you know, she’s pretty dangerous for having such a tiny body.”

She was, and she had shown it since day 1.

David couldn’t judge this whole situation because he hadn’t been there, but right now, _somehow_ , it made perfect sense. If it had been as terrifying as he imagined, of course both Stalker and his camp were gone. The Anarchists had permission to kill if someone was attempting against their lives.

And Alec was, for sure, the one who had provided them with that permission, so when he got Honey’s message and processed it, he nodded again.

At the end of the day, they didn’t get what they were promised and their own cargo was stolen from them, but said cargo had probably been destroyed in the explosion too. So, clearly, it didn’t matter that much, and Alec appeared to comprehend that.

Slowly, he got up from the chair and walked towards Honey, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, barely touching her skin with his lips.

“Congratulations on sticking together. You did an excellent job, like always.”

Honey scoffed, closing her eyes, before taking her arm out of David’s reach again, dismissing the fact he was sticking a gauze on her skin. She then started massaging her temples using her fingertips.

“Brother.” Alec pronounced, placing his hands on his shoulders. “I believe it is time we give Miss Harper some privacy.”

“Yes, David. Please give Miss Harper some privacy and bring her a healer instead, you’re really slow.” Honey said.

David tried too hard not to roll his eyes, but in the end he did.

If he had done things faster, she would’ve complained anyways, accusing him of making her wounds get worse by _manically pouring peroxide on her skin._

Still, without saying a word, he left the room with Alec.

Once they were out in the hallway, Alec stopped him from leaving with a single stare.

There were many interesting things about Alec, and one of them was that he spoke with each one of the features in his face. From his eyebrows, to his chin.

Sometimes it was terrifying.

Other times it was just pleasing to watch.

“When you go look for her healer, you could use to trade that jewelry she gave you for medicine, in case somebody needs some.”

Suddenly, said jewelry itched inside his pockets, and he felt as if Alec were asking for him to trade a part of his body for a greater good. Which, yes, was a _greater_ good, but that didn’t mean detaching from that imaginary extension of his body would hurt less.

“Alec…” David clenched his fists. “Are we in trouble?”

His brother’s lips arched into a reassuring smile. Serene, like he always was upon these type of questions and situations.

“If we are ever in trouble, you will be the first to know.” He promised.

“Now make sure you clean those up. People will not accept bloodied jewelry as a worthy trade.”

-.-

Alec called for a meeting the next day.

Honestly, it wasn’t mandatory for David to attend meetings (he didn’t even own a chair around the table) or give his opinions about topics, but sometimes he liked to witness them. They were his personal news channel.

The pacing was boring and predictable, because Alec always spoke about the little, least important (or at least what he considered as least important) details first and then wrapped up the meeting with the heaviest subjects that needed to be fixed in an immediate way. However, this time he started off…pretty heavy.

In fact, David _felt_ this was going to be a different meeting when he saw Alec sitting there, with his cup of tea floating next to him, and Leroy Flinn leaned against a wall, with his arms crossed around his chest, looking like the older sibling who had gone to the parents’ office to tell them his other siblings were doing bad things.

For a couple of minutes, silence reigned the room, until Alec took a deep breath and his eyes moved towards each one of his “most important” Anarchists, including Queen Bee’s empty chair (Given that she was still pretty upset about what had happened. Mentally upset).

“You have been called here today because Cyanide has notified me a new migrant camp has been established by the edges of the city. “

Gatlon had this fame of being a train wreck waiting to happen, yet migrants kept coming here; David knew it was because, maybe, the situation in their countries were even worse, but still he couldn’t quite understand _why_ Gatlon, out of all places.

“If I may comment on something: We are in a city that cannot afford to have its population expanding right now; migrant camps represent a huge threat for Gatlon’s weakening economy and political sta—“

“Perhaps. Such points should not, by any terms, be overlooked, so your contribution is indeed appreciated.” Alec interrupted Atomic Brain (Good. Because even his voice was irritating). “But given that I have pledged to accept foreign prodigies in our city as if it was their own…”

“There’s not a specific percentage on how many of them are prodigies yet.” Cyanide said.

“Irrelevant.” Alec responded, chuckling in an almost condescending way. “What we should take into account is the fact there _might_ be prodigies among them. That is, asking them to evacuate would only come off as counterproductive. And that is also another risk we cannot take nor afford at this moment.”

“So what you’re saying…is that the migrants are staying.” Atomic Brain said.

“They came here at their own risk, after all, and that is how they shall stay…if they do decide to stay, after a couple of days. They might as well just leave as many before them have done.”

“Are we _sure_ we can afford this?”

Man, was this guy stubborn.

“I said they have the right to stay at their own risk if they desire, so that should not concern us, nor as their governors nor as their fellow citizens; this was their choice, and now they shall adapt like everyone before them did.”

Oh.

_Oh._

“Nevertheless, one thing we should be concerned about is our own citizens and what are the effects these…migrant camps have on them.” Next to Alec, the cup trembled, so he held him with one hand, barely catching before it fell straight to the floor.

David braced himself as tension started to fill the room.

“Sightings of the winged prodigy that is popularly known as The Thunderbird and her supposedly ally, known as Lady Indomitable, have been reported. As far as we know, Lady Indomitable also travels by air, although she does not possess wings nor any helping tool to do so. The true identity of The Thunderbird and Lady Indomitable remain unknown, as well as their objectives and motivations.”

And…

Let’s just say that David wasn’t a genius but, at least to him, their objectives and motivations were clear, as well as their other allies’ motivations.

A few sentences ago, Alec had stated it was not his responsibility to help the migrants who came to Gatlon looking for a safer place to live. They were basically on their own because coming to a city that wasn’t theirs had been their choice (last time David checked, themselves coming to Gatlon after living more than half of their lives in Italy that many years ago had not been their choice, but okay…) and now they had to live with it and adapt.

Maybe, _just_ maybe, it should’ve occurred to him that The Thunderbird and Lady Indomitable were trying to help because _he wasn’t._

Not everything was about trying to take down the government, sweet rot.

There were prodigies out there that wanted to help other people…

Even if they weren’t prodigies as well.

On the other hand, David was there the night Cyanide and Queen Bee came to the Cathedral after what could’ve been their greatest humiliation yet, when The Thunderbird nonchalantly (according to Queen Bee) rejected the offer to join the Anarchists. So…it’s not like her or any of her allies were on their side, and that included Lady Indomitable.

“To be fair…” The Detonator spoke. “I could’ve taken both of them down by now, but I haven’t been allowed to do that yet.”

Ingrid Thompson, The Detonator, was a great element. However, she was young, impulsive and ruthless, and she liked to make last-minute _radical_ changes to very elaborated plans; Alec cherished that, but David just found it to be extremely dangerous for somebody who claimed to know what she was doing.

“That’s because if we kill or even injure them we could be the cause for a wave of outrage coming from the sectors that support their cause…whatever that cause is.” Cyanide clarified.

Ingrid groaned and rolled her eyes. Hard.

“That happens to be the exact reason why our position will remain the same until the circumstances become favorable for our own cause.” Alec said.

“And when will that moment be, exactly?” Asked Brimstone, another Anarchist, whose skin had the texture of a moth. Hence, he could _burn_ and even poison people. “How do you suggest to proceed?”

Alec scoffed.

“When the time comes, I will let you know, no doubt.” He said. “As for how shall we proceed: The best path to take, is trying to attack from the inside. That is, to know their weaknesses. Their motivations. Even their identities.”

_But their motivations were clear._

And, of course, David knew (or at least firmly believed) that, but he didn’t say a word.

“One of you must volunteer to go and inspect the migrant camp, in order to look for anything that might give us a clue of what are we facing.”

Indistinct chatter filled the room, as David felt his heart pound. Something told him this was an opportunity somehow, but at the same time he didn’t know what would he need an opportunity for in the first place.

Yet, before anyone could offer themselves to go, David cleared his throat.

“Uhm…Ace?”

All the eyes in the room turned back at him, including Alec’s, which was what he was intending in the first place.

“Brother?”

“I’m not publicly known like all of you, so perhaps people will cooperate more if I go undercover. Of course, I’m an Anarchist but…I don’t do…field work. I’m almost unrecognizable. So, that might give us some advantage?”

For a moment, the whole room went insanely quiet, just as if any of them could believe what David was saying, for the mere reason it was _unthinkable._ However, there was only one person David cared about at the moment, and that person was Alec who, against all odds, looked like he was considering it.

And, at the end of the day, what he decided was _final_ , no matter what the others thought. That’s how they rolled.

“Off you go, then.”

David smiled to himself despite the numerous death stares.

-.-

There was a reason why he didn’t like going out that much, though.

Another thing Alec refused to acknowledge was the…existence of propaganda that wasn’t exactly flattering for him.

Sometimes, David would distract himself from the messages thinking about that the people who had made those were extremely good artists. A good amount of the graffiti was well done, even if there were some other pieces that followed the “Let’s write obscenities in newly painted buildings!” formula. Either way, in both cases the message David elected to ignore was often…horrible.

Hateful messages that not only attacked Alec politically but also personally. And, although he had to admit some of them had a point (Anti-Ace Anarchy propaganda had some very strong points sometimes), he couldn’t help but think about how they were attacking his brother.

Not Ace Anarchy.

Alec Artino. His older brother, who had taken care of him when their parents refused to do so, just because they could handle one prodigy child, but not _two_ ; the one who had helped him survive and always made sure he didn’t starve to death; the one who defended him from non-prodigy kids who were picking on him; the one who would promise him everything would be alright; heck, the one who taught him how to tie his freaking shoes.

So, yes, feeling people’s hatred towards him was difficult, even if he deserved it sometimes.

That’s why David always elected to focus on things like the drawings in the walls or the poetic phrases that were everywhere. It gave him some kind of fake relief and numbness.

With that mindset still inside his head, David kept walking towards the migrant camp, until it was right in front of his eyes, looking like a weirdly organized mess.

It wasn’t that interesting, really, nor did it look too dangerous. It was just a big spot full of tents in neutral colors…which, note taken, they all were in the same colors with only a few exceptions, which maybe was thanks to The Thunderbird and Lady Indomitable’s help.

David walked around for a while, among said tents and the smoke from the bonfires people used to cook.

The rebels’ presence (They were rebels, weren’t they?) was not evident in any way; people didn’t pay much attention to him, and when he approached any of the families to try to ask them some subtle questions, they happened not to speak very good English or Italian (which were the only two languages David spoke fluently) so they gave him the information in chunks; messy, separate phrases David couldn’t understand it as a whole.

Yes, he could’ve asked more families or people who were on their own, but for some reason he didn’t feel like it and limited to investigate on his own, until he got to the edges of the camp and, up in a hill, he found something.

And for some unknown phenomena, all David could feel was…dread.

Anguish.

As if he were doing something wrong instead of exposing the people that caused Gatlon City to hate his brother so much.

Right there, under a tree, were footprints, a couple of yellow feathers and a backpack. Objects that, more likely, belonged to _them._ To Lady Indomitable and Thunderbird.

And yes, a feather and the backpack would’ve been extremely useful to track them. To know who they were and, that way, start plotting their fall.

But somehow David couldn’t bring himself to do it. He just stared at the objects for a long while. Grimacing. Narrowing his eyes. His lips quivering a little.

That’s when he decided to look somewhere else instead.

With a view like this, on top of a hill, David had a clearer, wider view of the lake, and it was then he realized it was bigger than it looked from the ground.

It was then he saw…Her.

Knelt down by the lakeside, she was doing the laundry by hand. An unknown woman, who looked more or less his age. Long dark hair, tawny skin and a pair of small slanted eyes, fully focused in what she was doing; while, well, David was focused on that too.

After a while, she moved. Straightening her back, she took the rubber band she was using as a bracelet and, very smoothly, moved it to her hair and tied it, revealing the rest of her face: An equally small nose and thick lips.

Then her gazed focused in a point where there was nothing, causing the late morning light and the water to reflect on her skin and her eyes.

David then wondered, just by chance, what Ace Anarchy would do if he found out The Thunderbird and Lady Indomitable had actually helped this people; how would he react.

What was going to be of them?

People like her, who just were minding her business but, according to him, had been helped by the wrong people?

David didn’t know, but he still erased the footprints and buried the feathers and the backpack.

Was it okay to be on Alec Artino’s side but not on Ace Anarchy’s side?

Where they even different people? Was his brother still in there somewhere?

What side was this anyways?


	5. The Assault to Cragmoor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Steal it back." said Hugh.
> 
> And honestly that was the dumbest thing Simon had ever heard in his entire life, but nobody provided a better idea, so that’s what they went for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is like...a rush :) so I'm just going to upload the chapters, here we goooo

_**10 years into the Age of Anarchy…** _

People reaching out to them was…new.

It’s not that they were scared of them, really. More likely, they were scared of what would happen if the important leaders found out they were reaching out to them.

And even so, they usually asked for their help for small things, like taking already bought supplies to migrant camps, poor sectors of the city, homeless shelters, orphanages…

That is, people and organizations asked for their help to deliver goods they weren’t willing to deliver themselves, under the fear of what would happen if _he_ found out; and it’s not that they weren’t scared about that too, but at least Hugh had encouraged them to grow some guts over time. And that’s what they did now. They helped people themselves, and they helped people who wanted to help but didn’t have the resources to do it.

Simon had to admit the political and economic situation of the city was getting the tiniest bit out of control. Hugh used to say Gatlon had been dying for years, ever since Ace Anarchy took control over it. For a long time, Simon thought this was only an adaptation process…but right now…

Right now he was sure that no adaptation process could possibly last this long. After 10 years into the Age of Anarchy, it was difficult to visualize their circumstances as something that would get better at some point.

Besides, stealing stuff from their own citizens to trade them for something that would only be beneficial for their own interests was straight up _low_. The lowest a governor who claimed to be reliable and trustworthy could fall. It was even worse if they took into account the provisions had been stolen from vulnerable institutions, like hospitals and orphanages.

Nobody ever dared to say out loud that these robberies were organized by Ace Anarchy himself, but everybody knew it; Simon liked to describe Gatlon City as a huge smokescreen, where the Anarchists fixed problems they caused themselves: staged robberies, train assaults…like a very elaborated theater club where people literally broke their legs and died on act (sometimes by accident). One could’ve thought Ace Anarchy would stop when his 10 year old play started having a body count, where people who were on his side represented a huge percentage of those lost lives.

But…yeah. He didn’t, nor did he seem to plan on doing it anytime soon.

So, let’s just say that somebody had to.

And what did people do when they had something stolen from them?

_Steal it back_ , said Hugh.

And honestly that was the dumbest thing Simon had ever heard in his entire life, but nobody provided a better idea, so that’s what they went for.

And Simon was seasick.

He liked the sea, but he hated ships, especially when he was inside of one (not that he had been in a ship many times, but one or twice had been enough to convince him they weren’t his thing).

The plan was displayed in Simon’s brain like an actual visual.

Get inside the transport ship. Tamaya and Georgie will distract him. The others get in the cargo ship and steal it.

Gosh, this was going to go _so_ wrong.

Like, it was a plan but, to Simon’s perception, it was a really ambiguous one…although, on the other hand, they hadn’t had much time to put it together, because once the trade was done, it was going to be much harder to, in Hugh’s words, _steal the stuff back from them._

Tamaya was the one following the cargo ship which, apparently, was travelling to Cragmoor in the opposite direction the transport ship was (perhaps a tactic to avoid attracting too much attention towards the suspicious actions). From what Simon could see, they would barely have a couple of minutes to cross the island, _around_ the prison, and get to the cargo ship, and they would probably need Georgie and Tamaya’s help, even if they were supposed to be distracting the security staff and…whomever of the Anarchists Ace had sent to make the exchange. Whomever who was travelling in this ship.

Because, being totally honest, Simon was _supposed_ to check who was it, but he was too busy making sure nobody saw him (and that was also dumb given the fact he was invisible), and in the end he just saw shadows passing by, as the trapdoor from which Hugh and Kasumi had disappeared burned beneath his feet.

He just hoped the person in charge of this mission was not Cyanide, because if they saw themselves in the need to…annihilate him, Ace Anarchy would have their heads, one by one. And then he would hang them from the street wires for everyone to see what was coming to them if they dared to…

_Oh my God._

The ship stopped with a thud and a mild jolt.

_Don’t flicker._

_Don’t flicker._

_Don’t._

And he didn’t.

He just braced himself while knelt down on the floor, watching as faceless figures passed by, because he wasn’t willing to risk himself as much as to get closer and try to identify them, even if they couldn’t see him.

Once the movement stopped, he gave Hugh and Kasumi the signal, which was to tap a specific sequence on the trapdoor.

Hugh and Kasumi emerged then and, without saying a word to each other, they started walking out of the ship, careful not to make too much noise and finding the darkest spots so Hugh and Kasumi wouldn’t be seen.

Outside, they stood under the palm tree where Georgie was waiting for them, a few feet above the ground, hiding in the shadows.

And she couldn’t see Simon, but because she couldn’t see him, Hugh gave her a thumbs up, notifying her everything had gone as planned and he was among them.

Simon’s world was spinning around his head, and he felt _this_ close to throwing up. Because not only was he dizzy, but he was also nauseous now, feeling as an unpleasant and bitter taste filled his mouth and his throat contracted itself waiting for something to come up. The saline smell of their surroundings did nothing make it worse, and next thing he knew was that he was leaning against the trunk, while the Earth kept shaking.

Hugh started patting his back gently, even though he had told him many times that hearing somebody else’s gag reflex made him nauseous too.

Still, Simon refused to throw up in that moment.

Instead, he just breathed until the feeling was gone and grabbed Hugh by the arm, letting him know everything was under control.

A lightning struck in the distance, being that Tamaya’s signal to report her position and, for instance, the cargo ship’s position.

In response, Kasumi raised her hands to the sky a little and shook her fingers a little, which caused a couple of water drops to fall in the close area surrounding them, so it could simulate rain and the lightning didn’t look _that_ suspicious. At least, not for the people walking around this part of the island.

Which, talking about them, soon they were surrounded by the sound of crunching sticks and vegetation, along with semi-distant chattering.

It was only then, when Simon realized they were…

Well.

Screwed.

Not as bad as if this had been Cyanide or Queen Bee.

But it was Atomic Brain.

And that was bad enough by itself.

“Everything blank.” Hugh whispered. “Not a single thought.”

Of course.

This wasn’t confirmed by any means because, really, none of the Anarchists’ powers and its limitations had ever been confirmed for safety reasons (their own safety, not everyone else’s), but it was a common belief that one of Atomic Brain’s abilities was to read minds.

So he tried to empty his’.

Nevertheless, this turned into a difficult task when Atomic Brain stood under one of the hidden lamps.

He wasn’t wearing the helmet that usually covered his head…and, said head, was grotesquely huge; it made his eyes, which were a little injected with blood, stretch upwards, onto the path were his nonexistent forehead merged with his bald head, which had the shape of an excessively bloated balloon, with thick, noticeable veins that seemed to pulsate to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Suddenly, the nausea came back, and Simon had to step backwards a little, as he became invisible without even noticing (In what moment had he become visible again, in the first place?).

_No thoughts._

_No thoughts._

_Empty head._

But he was still in front of them, minding his own business as he spoke to a couple of men.

Until, out of nowhere, he turned around, right in their direction.

Simon’s heartbeat stopped and his whole body went numb and freezing cold; it hadn’t been him. He was sure about that.

It _couldn’t_ had been him.

But if it hadn’t been him, then who?

Everything happened so fast Simon barely had time to process his own question; but before he could move, he managed to hear Kasumi’s tiny “I’m sorry”.

Then, her voice mixed with a loud, severe:

“GET THEM!”

“RUN!” Wailed Hugh.

From the corner of his eye, Simon saw Georgie’s silhouette like a phantom. He figured, then, that perhaps she had gone warn Tamaya.

Simon, still a little numb but more functional, tried to reach for Kasumi’s hand, before being stopped by Hugh, who grabbed him by the wrist.

He wanted, genuinely _wanted_ to believe he hadn’t grabbed him that hard, to the point Simon was sure he had hurt him, on purpose.

“Run.”

“B-but…But Kasumi…”

“WE NEED HER HERE! COME ON!” Hugh let go, causing a sharp pain to invade Simon’s whole arm. However, he said nothing and, instead, he just obeyed.

And he ran, and ran and ran, under all the hidden lightbulbs that were being turned on by the security staff to the notice of the disruption of the order.

Simon ran as fast as he could.

At some point, he spotted the warehouse.

-.-

They were surrounded and it was her fault.

_Everything blank,_ Hugh said.

But in the moment they saw Atomic Brain, she felt terrified, and her brain made as much noise as it could. In fact, it was still making too much noise…even now, that the damage was done and they were _this_ close to being annihilated.

Her back was against Hugh’s, who was holding a chrome spear.

And Kasumi was doing her best, but her best was not enough.

She was so stressed and terrified, that the only thing she could do was produce the weakest water torrents and waves. And yes, they were useful to distract their opponents. But that’s it. She wasn’t helping. If anything, maybe she was making it worse.

A man came running towards Hugh, and Kasumi gagged to the sound of chrome meeting flesh, and the sensation of a warm, thick liquid on her cheek.

“ _I ASKED YOU…”_ Slash. “ _TO DO_ ** _ONE_** _THING!”_

Slash. Slash.

One thing.

He had asked her to do one thing.

That one thing had been to keep her mouth shut and her mind absolutely blank.

And she failed.

That’s what she always did; she was too small, too young, too slow…too _everything_.

Or maybe the correct expression to use was too _nothing._

“ _ **WATCH THE FUCK OUT!**_ ”

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

Kasumi felt Hugh’s body over hers. Heavy as a rock; _so_ heavy she could barely breathe, though he seemed to notice that and got off immediately, even if he was still acting like a human shield.

The bullet rain was flying above their heads. Violent and terrifying.

She could feel Hugh’s heart pounding against her body; in fact, it seemed like every inch of the human being Hugh Everhart had grown to be was pounding….maybe in terror.

But maybe it was just rage. Or hatred.

Being brutally honest, she couldn’t blame him.

To her horror, a bullet fell right next to her. Close enough to have touched her if Hugh hadn’t managed to throw his hand in the middle.

The first sob escaped Kasumi’s mouth.

There was a reason Hugh had asked her to stay, and that reason was that she was supposed to be useful; to fix what she had broken herself; to _help._

She wasn’t helping at all, that’s for sure. In fact, she was sure that, by now, Hugh would’ve managed to take down at least half of this men if he wasn’t stuck here trying to protect her.

Hugh was strong, unlike her. And, in situations like these, when that was doing nothing but slow them down, it hurt.

“I’m sorry, Chromium. I’m so _so_ sorry…” Through the vessel of tears, the darkness, and the fabric of the balaclava, Kasumi could barely see Hugh, but he was there. And he took her by the back of her head, pressing his forehead against hers.

He didn’t say anything, but Kasumi understood every word he kept to himself.

She didn’t believe any of them, nor did she try to pretend that she did.

Kasumi was starting to wonder whether Hugh was _actually_ invincible or if his body would get tired at some point, when all Kasumi heard was thunder.

Then, all she saw was light.

Light that came down from the sky, straight to the person who was closest to Kasumi, aiming at her with their gun.

_Tamaya._

Startled, she looked up to the sky to meet the pair of electric, furious eyes, as the smell of burned flesh and blood danced through her nostrils.

“Run.” She read in Tamaya’s lips.

“ _ **RUN!”**_ She heard.

This time, Kasumi obeyed.

From the corner of her eye, she could see both Tamaya and Georgie descending from the sky, still surrounded, one by each side of Hugh, ready to attack.

Blocking, hitting, dodging.

Hidden behind the bushes, Kasumi sensed the tide getting wild all around them; the waves moved with such violence they appeared to be alive and outraged, creating a gorgeous yet absolutely terrifying sound that could be heard from above the bullets and the battle cries.

Kasumi could hear the sea in herself.

A sea so useless it could’ve been impossible to navigate.

These people…

They had raised her for 7 years now, without ever considering her a nuisance like her own parents or like the people in the orphanage had done…

And today she had been asked to do only one thing.

_One,_ in return of all the sleepless nights she ever caused them; all the times they insisted on giving up a meal to give it to her because there wasn’t enough for everybody; all these years they had to act older than they were just for her to feel safe.

One thing in return for all of that.

And she failed.

Now they were out there fighting for their lives against armed men. They were strong, but maybe they would get tired eventually and they didn’t even know whether Simon was still alive or not, as he was nowhere to be seen.

This was all her fault.

Yet, all she did was hug herself.

-.-

Inside the warehouse, it was even darker than outside, and that made quite a lot of sense because Simon was not dumb enough to turn on the lights.

Desperate enough, maybe. But not dumb enough.

Right now, he was knelt in one knee, trying to analyze the pseudo wound in his wrist…the one that, apparently, was not so “pseudo” after all.

The spot where Hugh’s hand had been was turning a little purple, and it hurt every time he tried to move his hand; he just hoped it wasn’t dislocated, because they didn’t have time for that, nor could they afford it. Besides, he wasn’t in the mood to remind Hugh this hadn’t been his fault.

Because it was the truth.

Yes, Hugh should have already learned how dangerous his powers were, but this time panic was an important factor in his behavior, and Simon refused to blame him for that, even if for a minute he did wonder if this had been involuntary.

Of course it had been.

Hugh would never.

With that thought, Simon sighed.

He had to go back outside to help the others; there wasn’t much information about Cragmoor out there, but one of the things Tamaya and Georgie found out when they first travelled here and saw the island from up the air, they found out that it appeared to be highly secured. If their assumptions hadn’t been wrong, that meant that the others were in trouble, and Simon couldn’t just stay here.

It was just a little pain in the wrist.

No big deal.

People had fought battles while carrying much more severe injuries.

So, Simon started getting up, slowly…but before he could do something, _anything,_ he heard the door being opened and immediately turned invisible, right there, in the corner by the window.

Once again, he saw Atomic Brain’s figure. He looked like a wandering (cursed) spirit, and Simon wondered if all the Anarchists were always this terrifying or if they just enjoyed scaring people to death.

Maybe both.

Simon bit his lip.

_No thoughts._

_Head empty._

_No thoughts._

While Atomic Brain looked around the room, Simon did the same thing himself and evaluated his options.

He couldn’t just walk out the door because he could be _heard,_ so he had to get rid of Atomic Brain first.

_Head empty._

_Head empty._

A door at the back of the warehouse.

_No thoughts._

A storage room.

Narrowing his eyes, Simon looked into his pocket.

Empty.

So, before he could regret it, he slammed his foot on the floor and ran to the opposite side of the room.

As expected, Atomic Brain followed the direction where the slam had sounded, because it was the origin of the echo that came afterwards.

-.-

Things got worse when they brought the net launchers. They barely touched Hugh, but they were a huge inconvenience for Georgie and Tamaya.

Kasumi was counting the times they had attempted to take them down. Right now, she was at 15.

16.

17.

18.

Georgie was slower than Tamaya, and her sense of sight was not as good, so she was constantly wrapped in a net and Hugh had to go and cut it to set her free, while covering his own back from the attacks, which wouldn’t stop.

Tamaya at first seemed to be managing just fine but, obviously, that didn’t cause her to grow another pair of arms or another pair of eyes.

Besides, they were a team, so she had to also watch out for Hugh and Georgie. She wasn’t only protecting herself.

19.

20.

21.

Georgie’s back hit the ground, causing a painful thud, half-tangled into a net, which she managed to get off with her bare hands and feet.

However, the shooter caught her before she could move, on top of her, in an astride position.

Immediately, a gloved hand that happened to belong to Hugh grabbed him by the back of his shirt, turned his body towards his own direction and lifted him up. Kasumi stopped looking when she saw Hugh’s other hand flying towards him, in a clenched fist position.

The sound of aggressive beating of wings reached Kasumi’s ears.

22.

But this time it was certainly worse.

Tamaya was trapped not in one, but in at least 4 nets, and every time she managed to burn some of the fabric to free herself, another net was thrown at her, as if she were an animal.

As if Georgie and Tamaya were animals.

Hugh was invincible, yes, and had much more endurance than any of them but, just like Tamaya, he only had two hands, and he was supposed to also use them to protect himself.

By this point, Georgie had a gun… but, again, that didn’t change anything because she didn’t know how to use it; besides, Georgie’s heart was massive, and Kasumi knew that, even if she knew how to use it, she would still hesitate to do so.

However, she really seemed to be considering that option as she stood there, a few feet above the ground, hands trembling, aiming the gun at the guy who condescendingly grabbed Tamaya by the chin.

Nets around her body.

Her legs, her arms, her chest.

Her wings.

“SHOOT THEM!”

“ _ **HOW?!”**_

Hugh was staring at Georgie.

Tamaya was staring at the man, with a glare so deathly it was evident she didn’t enjoy being touched like that.

And Kasumi was staring at every single one of them.

And that, unfortunately, made her realize they were losing.

Maybe they had been losing from the start, and Kasumi had been too hopeful to admit it.

This was a whole, fully-trained security crew, fighting them in a territory they barely had time to familiarize themselves with before the mission. Of course they would out-power them at some point. After all, they were just 5 teenagers…

3, if they counted Simon was nowhere to be seen, and Kasumi wasn’t doing anything.

Then she heard a loud bang.

Georgie lost balance, and her body shot backwards, in the opposite direction the bullet had gone; if she hadn’t recovered as fast as she did, she would be on the floor by now.

She wasn’t, which was good. But as long as she was steady again, a net caught her, putting her down forcibly.

That’s when Kasumi followed the direction of the bullet, and she found the bleeding but still alive man on the floor, while Tamaya squirmed, without having much success whatsoever.

Hugh ran towards one of the men, but he was met with liquid spray shot directly at his face.

More specifically, at his eyes.

And, to Kasumi’s horror, he didn’t remain unbothered as always.

Stepping backwards, Hugh screamed in _pain._

A scream so gut wrenching, she figured he probably had never felt pain like this before.

Maybe he had never felt pain at all in the first place.

Hugh, after all, had a weakness. And they had found it.

Stars, they really were losing.

And the worst part of it all, was that these people were not only her team. They were her family. Her support.

Her everything.

An everything she wasn’t willing to give up on yet. Not when it was formed by the same people who hadn’t given up on her.

Kasumi’s eyes laid on Tamaya, and she remembered how, for at least 3 months, her one and only objective had been to figure out where The Thunderbird was going…until that night, when she finally got to meet her and was not disappointed. However, she also remembered Queen Bee’s intimidating mien; how she stood like a mountain, with the whole world and Tamaya’s stuttering breath hanging from her fingertips.

Sometimes she still heard Tamaya’s words in the back of her head.

_You are not to touch her._

Perhaps it was time to return the favor and, once again, remind herself she didn’t need a weapon because she had the _privilege_ to be able to become one.

So Kasumi wiped her face and, after a deep breath, she stood up.

She felt the ocean connecting with her body as it surrendered to her presence; she felt it in her fingertips, in her veins and every inch of her body.

Kasumi clenched her fists to hold it back.

The tide roared in their surroundings.

-.-

Running in circles wasn’t the most entertaining experience in his opinion, but at least he was in a warehouse full of weapons.

And, since he was running in circles for his life, that happened to be an advantage.

He hadn’t been able to collect many things, because he was supposed to avoid making too much noise. But, among the things he had, were a rope, a mini stun gun and a bottle of blinding spray. He carried all of those in his pockets.

From behind a shelf, Simon saw Atomic Brain.

_No thoughts._

The storage room was close.

Simon took a deep breath.

From this spot, he could see that the storage room had a pull door, with a horizontal handle.

It reminded him of an industrial freezer room. He had worked in some restaurants (most of which had gone bankrupt) and he knew, from experience, that those things, although a little heavy, were easy to open from the outside, but an average person would have to struggle a little to open them from the inside.

He hoped this was a similar case but, since he didn’t know for sure, he just took the risk.

Simon ran towards the storage room; his heart was pounding so hard his rib cage ached, besides beginning to feel short of breath and the world spinning around him.

_Later._

_Not now._

Simon wrapped both of his hands around the handle, ignoring the sharp pain in his injured wrist, as he propelled his body backwards, which caused the door to open loudly.

It didn’t matter anymore.

This was the point, after all.

Standing in the middle of the storage room, Simon grabbed the first thing he managed to touch when he put his hands inside his pockets, and waited.

A couple of seconds later, Atomic Brain appeared in the door, with a triumphant smile drawn in his lips.

“You forgot to lock the door, Invisible Boy. I know you’re in here. “

_Yes._

“I can hear you.”

_I know that._

“Why don’t you show yourself, then?”

_Because I don’t want to._

But Simon did anyways; he showed himself as fast as he could…faster than he’d ever done it, he dared to say, because he even felt dizzy again; but if he wanted his impulsive, gut and anxiety guided plans to work, he had to think and _act fast._

For the briefest second, Simon felt Atomic Brain’s taking control of him, but before he could take possession of his limbs, Simon raised the blinding spray and shot it directly to his face. With this much panic intoxicating him, he pushed the button on top of the bottle until his fingertip hurt and, for instance, until Atomic Brain’s screams were unbearable.

Still, he didn’t give up. He threw himself towards Simon, wailing in pain and rage as he tried to scratch or hurt whatever he could with his nails.

Simon pressed his lips together tightly, trying not to give him any clue whether he was close to his face or not.

He was now inside the storage room, as planned.

Atomic Brain grabbed him by the shoulder, so Simon tried to push him with his non-injured hand.

It wasn’t enough, and next thing he knew was that they had started to tussle in an awkward, yet terrifying way.

That’s when Simon realized he had no other choice; with his other hand, he looked for the stun gun.

His wrist was screaming and in flames, but he managed to make his hand work as he shoved the gun into Atomic Brain’s skin and activated it.

Another bone-chilling scream.

And then he was on the floor, whimpering.

For a gun so tiny, it was certainly powerful.

But Simon didn’t have time to look deeper into those details; this fight was not over yet, so he rushed out of the storage room; maybe all of this would’ve been safer if he had tied Atomic Brain, but at the same time he felt that was too risky. So, Simon just hoped for the best, and prayed for Atomic Brain to be weak enough to be unable to push the door open. This because, as Simon suspected, it was heavy.

To be honest, he had zapped him pretty bad and he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, but he just kept running outside the warehouse where Atomic Brain remained trapped.

He had to get back to the others.

-.-

Kasumi walked with her head held high, her fists still clenched, looking straight ahead.

She cracked her knuckles against her thumb and her palms, and then she climbed on a rock located in the middle of the battle, unshakable and focused.

It took the men a little while to notice her.

More specifically, until Hugh, Georgie and Tamaya stopped struggling and their visual focus went straight onto her.

Their eyes went dark, full of horror and panic. Collective realization surrounding them.

Kasumi wouldn’t have cared less.

Their opponents stared too, startled and confused, as if Kasumi were a strange creature that had come in from Mars.

“Are you looking for something, kiddo?”

She narrowed her eyes in response, without saying a word.

The man who had spoken to her laughed, being followed by some of his colleagues.

“Please.” Kasumi heard Georgie’s voice, although she refused to look at her. “ _Please._ Don’t hurt her. I…I-I…”

“Don’t.” Hugh said, raising his hand. “Let her speak.”

Then, his gaze turned at her, nodding.

Kasumi nodded back at him.

“Let Thunderbird go.” She commanded.

The same man laughed again, this time being followed by the rest of his peers, who were absolutely amused by this situation, all while Tamaya stared at Kasumi with this “you’re doing your best” expression.

Kasumi couldn’t really blame her, but that wouldn’t stop her either this time.

The sound of her own heartbeat became deafening and, somehow, also blinding, while all of those surrounding them still had the nerve to laugh as hard as they could. It was hilarious for them, of course.

The surrealistic image of a kid that wasn’t even half their size, trying to command them. Of course, hilarious.

But Kasumi tried to focus on the ones she actually cared about; Georgie’s terrified expression; Tamaya’s electric eyes full of dread; Hugh insecure yet reassuring stare.

_I am my own weapon._

Kasumi allowed her spark warm her insides, until her energy tickled its way out again.

Then the water responded to her presence. To her gift. To her command.

And as the giant wave rose behind her, dragging her own tears and sweat, everything went still. Them. Their surroundings. The world. And all the existent eyes went upwards to the water body that stood firm under her power.

“You will set Thunderbird free.” Kasumi commanded again.

Nobody moved, but Kasumi felt every fragment of their fear, and she knew that they wouldn’t be able to stop them.

Because they wouldn’t even try in the first place.

“Chromium.” She said instead.

Hugh got the message immediately. As fast as he could, he freed Tamaya from the nets, using his spear.

Next thing she knew, is that they were standing in front of her, in an improvised yet intimidating formation.

“Now, you will give us back the provisions you stole.” Kasumi said.

Silence.

Hugh took one step forward.

“She gave you an order.” He reminded them, but all they got again was silent.

Until, at least, the same man that had talked to her before raised his voice again.

“We will not surrender to you.”

And that was it.

Judging by how nobody protested or dared to speak against that, Kasumi realized this wasn’t a single person’s choice. It was _their_ choice. A collective choice that implied leading to ruin a lot vulnerable institutions in exchange of the satisfaction or their particular, selfish cause.

As sad as it sounded, looking at the type of ruthless people each one of this men were, Kasumi was not surprised.

“So be it, then.” She declared.

With that being said, Kasumi freed the wave.

And the world went back into movement.

Because the world started to drown.

-.-

“Please…Oh, God. _Please, please, please,_ ** _PLEASE.”_**

Simon woke up with the weird feeling people sometimes got in their sleep. The feeling of falling down.

However, he also woke up by somebody pressing his chest really hard.

Then, he spitted out at least a glass worth of water.

Directly on Hugh’s face.

His throat was sore, and his wrist was _throbbing._

On top of that, he wasn’t even done processing all of…whatever this thing was, when he smelled the sea and felt the movement beneath his body.

“Oh, Stars.” He moaned as the dizziness came back. “Why are we in a boat?”

From what he could see, they had failed miserably.

First of all, they were in an _escape boat_ and not in the cargo ship they were supposed to steal. They, however, had some of the boxes from the cargo ship. But the bad thing was: They were not even half of them.

Second of all, they all were _soaking wet_ , full of scratches and bruises.

“What in the living…”

Simon wasn’t able to finish his sentence, because he felt Hugh’s arms around him, tight.

Confusion grew bigger as he found the willpower to return the hug while feeling his face went from freezing to bursting into flames. Not long after that, Georgie and Tamaya joined the hug too, but Kasumi couldn’t because she seemed really busy making the waves control the boat.

They were heading towards Gatlon, and they were alive.

But everything was very confusing. And…

Oh.

Aces.

“Tamaya, you’re bleeding.”

Tamaya pulled away from the hug, and everyone else did too.

“Psst. Yeah.”

An entire and, fortunately, smart fraction of her left wing had gone featherless, but she didn’t seem bothered by it.

“God. That must hurt. Are you okay?”

“I’m good.” She shrugged, before clearing her throat. “You probably don’t remember it but a…Uhm…”

“A tsunami.” Georgie said, directing an understanding smile at Simon when she saw his panic expression.

“Yes. A tsunami struck and you were _just_ going back to meet us. So I kinda…had to go back to look for you.” Tamaya explained.

“A TSUNAMI?!”

“Yes.” Kasumi said, without moving from her position.

But that’s all she said.

Perhaps she knew she didn’t have to, because deep down Simon _knew._

Yet, the only thing he could do in response was run his fingers through his hair. Frustrated.

“You did an excellent job tying yourself to that tree, though.” And Tamaya showed him her hands.

They were bleeding too.

Simon knew that had been caused by the rope he could recall having inside his pocket when he left the warehouse. However, he couldn’t recall any tsunami…

Nor could he recall tying himself to a tree, although he remembered having learned that from a documentary about what one should do when facing natural disasters like those.

Outside of that, his mind was blank.

Except…

Maybe…

A nervous, panicking laugh escaped him, as he felt his eyes burn.

“Atomic Brain.” He said, sniffing. “I…I trapped him in the warehouse…and…And I don’t know if he made it out.”

Silence fell among them.

Numbness.

Realization.

The damage was done, and they all knew it, even if they weren’t yet ready to accept it.

“Hey.” Hugh said anyways, as he wrapped his hand around his shoulders. “What matters now is that you’re okay…that we’re all okay. And we’re alive.”

Georgie knelt down in front of him, holding his hand as she massaged his knuckles with her thumb.

Tamaya, on the other hand, directed a sad smile at him and proceeded to take both her legs up to her chest and hug them.

In that moment, Simon knew two things, the first one being they were absolutely screwed.

The second one being that, although being screwed, at least they still had each other.

So he looked up at the stars, as he knew that _maybe_ this would be the last time he would be able to look at them without wondering if this was the last time he saw a starry sky. And they seemed to smile back at him, under the fake promise everything was going to be alright.

He stared at them, just waiting, and waiting, and waiting…

Simon waited, until the spotlight was stolen by a bright, flickering trace of light.

Artificial light.

“Is that…?”

“A flare.” Kasumi stared at them, with not even a hint of doubt reflected on her face.

Tamaya narrowed her eyes as she prepared to take off, but before she could do anything, Georgie placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I got this.” She said.

-.-

A shipwreck, with no apparent signs of survivors.

Of course a tsunami would have these type of repercussions, but when Georgia took a closer look, she realized she wasn’t ready to witness something like this.

Judging by the stuff she saw, she assumed it had been a cruise.

Perhaps a familiar cruise.

And it was heartbreaking.

Like, seeing all of those floating clothes, personal belongings, beach balls…

Somebody’s family vacation had ended here along with their lives, and that made every inch of Georgia’s body ache, besides her heart and her soul.

That’s when another red light caught the corner of her eye, in the short distance.

When she got closer to the air bed, Georgia saw him.

A kid, evidently younger than Kasumi, with bright red hair. Half of his body on the blue floating mattress, and the other half in the water, which was getting really cold by this hour.

Carefully, Georgia shifted herself into a kneeling position in the air, looking down towards him.

The moonlight shone in his eyes, and Georgia could see he was exhausted, breathing really slowly, and unable to show any reaction to Georgia’s presence that wasn’t numbness.

She tried to smile at him, although her lips were quivering.

“Take me home?” He asked in a hoarse, almost nonexistent voice.

Georgia looked around.

It didn’t take her much to realize that wouldn’t be possible, because there was a huge chance all of the things he called home (his parents, siblings…) had been lost.

Still, she caressed his cheek with her hand, and the kid stared at her in weak but noticeable awe.

It broke her into a million pieces.

“I’ll try, darling.” She promised, before cradling him into her arms.


	6. The Morning after the Assault to Cragmoor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once it finally worked, they would have access to the outside world.
> 
> And then, only then, in that precise moment, they would be notified of how screwed they were.

_**10 years into the Age of Anarchy. 3.5 hours after the Assault to Cragmoor…** _

They took the long way to Gatlon in order to avoid being seen. In all that time, the kid Georgie had brought from the shipwreck remained passed out, his head on Georgie’s lap while she ran her fingers through his hair, almost in a nervous tic manner.

Nobody dared to oppose to the presence of the kid; not even Hugh, who was usually the one to remind them what things they could and could not afford.

And it’s not like they could afford having another person in the house but, on the other hand: What was Georgie meant to do?

Leave him to die?

No way. And that happened to be the reason why nobody protested.

When they finally arrived at Gatlon, the sky had a pale pinkish color, although no movement was to be seen around.

Hugh himself, Kasumi, Tamaya and Georgie unpacked the boat while Simon stayed aside, with the kid on his back, despite the fact his wrist was hurting. 

In a few hours (minutes?) the people who had reached out to them would come to the coast to pick their stuff up. They were going to be disappointed, of course, because what they were delivering was absolutely miserable, but once the news arrived to Gatlon, it would all make sense.

Well.

At least that’s what Hugh wanted to believe.

Once they were done unpacking, they started walking through the streets of Gatlon, taking the long way to Simon’s house, through dangerous alleys and equally awful streets (where somebody could’ve just jumped towards them to offer them drugs), avoiding security cameras and zones where they assumed would already be people around.

When they arrived, like 45 whole minutes after, everybody looked _sore._

But, not being this whole odyssey enough, they entered the house through the trapdoor that led to the basement, where their shared bedroom was.

Hugh made sure to lock all the doors, while Georgie did the same with the windows, Tamaya turned all the lights off and then they all gathered again in the basement, sitting by the footboards of the two beds they shared, their backs leaned against the wood, as the nameless kid slept soundly in one of said beds.

In front of them, there was the TV, which would project black and white stripes when they decided to finally turn it on; when that happened, Simon would have to stand up to move the rabbit ear antenna while Tamaya or Georgie slammed it, because Hugh had no impulse control.

Once it finally worked, they would have access to the outside world.

And then, _only_ then, in that _precise_ moment, they would be notified of how screwed they were.

-.-

When David woke up, Tala was wrapped around his arms.

Back in the migrant camp, her tent had been relatively small and shared with at least 4 other girls, so Tala was used to sleeping in a really compact, almost fetal position, especially when there was someone next to her.

To be fair, she was pretty used to sleeping next to people pretty often. It’s all she’d ever known after losing her family and having to leave her hometown.And even then, according to her, she and her sisters slept in the same room, although not in the same bed (”But it was a small room” she used to say. “You could, like, jump from one bed to the other without falling”).

Still, due to the current situation, being in a migrant camp became more dangerous as weeks went by, and that’s when David decided to rent an apartment for her. Sure, a couple of her friends followed her at first but then, for reasons Tala refused to explain to him, they left.

She didn’t need to explain anything, really.

David already knew why.

And it didn’t matter, really; he wasn’t in the position to take it personal, because if he found out his friend’s boyfriend was Ace Anarchy’s brother, he would have ran away too.

That type of behavior had a name, and it was “self-preservation”.

Actually, David didn’t know why Tala was still here; why she hadn’t ran away when David told her she had the right to, after confessing he was related to _him._

Yet, somehow, David refused to suggest it a second time when she said no. 

After the first “inspection” to the camp, David kept going there even when not asked to, until he located the girl he had seen by the lakeside. That happened to be Tala, and she actually served as a translator for some people.

Their relationship moved pretty fast. Almost insanely fast.

Tala was one of the most genuine people David had met in his life…and he wasn’t just saying that because he was surrounded by liars and knew how to lie.

He liked her. Very much.

And, someday, he expected to leave Gatlon with her.

Sure, the whole world had been falling into pieces for years. The _whole_ world, but one could always run away to a place where the situation wasn’t as messed up.

Somewhere where one didn’t fear for their lives every day.

Maybe, when they were settled down and safe, Tala and him would get married and have children, and they would see them grow and, in the best of cases, change this world for good, like their uncle Alec had tried to do (But failed halfway down).

Until then, they had each other, and they _loved_ each other.

As for now, Tala emitted a little grunting sound, like she always did when she was starting to wake up.

She then took her arms off David and rubbed her face, yawning.

David giggled, waiting for her to finish.

Tala didn’t own any pajamas. She just wore shirts that were comically huge on her (Tala was very petite), most of which were stolen from him, and it was adorable to see her wearing them.

Today was no exception.

First she opened her eyes and placed a small kiss in his lips, smiling.

“Hi.” She greeted.

“Hello.” David smiled. “Did you sleep well?”

Second, Tala took a deep breath as she shifted into a sitting position, stretching herself.

“I did. But you snored, as always.”

David scoffed.

“I don’t snore.”

“Sure you don’t, sweetheart. Whatever you say.” Tala rolled her eyes playfully.

After that, she got out of the bed and started heading towards the bathroom, which David could see from the bed.

It wasn’t a big a big apartment, really. Much better than a camp, yes, but David still wanted to get her something better. A place where all her stuff didn’t need to be placed on top of each other, making it look like a hoarder’s house, and where the bed wasn’t in the hall that connected the small living room to the kitchen.

Perhaps when David had a job of his own; one that didn’t depend on Alec. Because, even if he could do as he pleased with his salary, sometimes when he asked Alec to let him borrow some money, he wanted to know what for.

If he had gotten Tala a bigger apartment, there was a huge chance David would’ve had to ask Ace for more money more often, and that would make him suspicious.

Because, for sure, he didn’t know about Tala. Not yet.

David felt Alec wasn’t ready for that conversation, and neither was him.

Good thing that, after having spent some time with the Anarchists now, David had become a pretty good liar; he always managed to make up a believable story about where on Earth had he spent the night and why he had spent it there.

And of course, he took the precaution to avoid staying every night with Tala. Maybe once or twice a week… maybe three times a week, when Tala didn’t want to be alone for some reason, but not _every day._

Tala kept the door ajar as she brushed her teeth and washed her face. All the time, David was staring at her, as she continued to put on her moisturizing cream and lip balm. Then, she took her old brush and started running it through her hair.

David then stared at the clock by the nightstand.

On the realization it was already past 9:30 AM, he took a deep breath and started reaching for his tennis shoes; through the corner of her eye, Tala caught his movement, and she turned towards his direction, with her hands still busy tying her hair in a ponytail.

He tried to ignore it at first, but he couldn’t help but notice Tala looked…disappointed.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, pretending he didn’t know the answer.

“Do you really have to go?” She asked, turning her head back at her reflection. She spoke under her breath, at a really low volume, but David heard every word.

He wished he could make her see it was as hard for him as it was for her.

“I promise I’ll be back on Saturday.”

Tala smiled at him. A sad, weak gesture that still managed to make David’s insides melt.

“You promise?”

“Yes.” David nodded. “A hundred times.”

-.-

Upon leaving Tala’s apartment, David started making the way he knew by heart. To the cathedral. To the Anarchists.

He walked in silence, as he didn’t really have anybody to talk to, until he reached his destination spot.

It didn’t take David much to realize things were not okay.

Or, at least, not ordinary.

There were usually a couple of reporters outside the cathedral, but it was never this crowded.

There was an army of people holding cameras and microphones outside the cathedral, demanding for someone to come out and give an explanation about…whatever that was happening.

David’s heart started pounding harder than ever, fearing the absolute worst scenario he could think of.

Overcome with panic, David ran towards the back of the building to enter through the backside.

Usually he hesitated before climbing through the wall to his bedroom’s window, because the rocks could get slippery thanks to the morning dew, but this time he just went for it.

Next thing he knew, was that he was falling on his bedroom’s carpet, causing loud thud that was painful even for his own ears, despite not having felt physical pain at all due to the adrenaline intoxicating his body.

Once he was able to breathe again, David got on his feet, stumbling at first.

He stormed outside, feeling dizzy and out of his body.

The halls seemed narrow and claustrophobic as David ran through them, feeling as if his legs were made out of gummy or something nonexistent and weak.

It all came to his mind then. Alec’s life through his own eyes. The way he spoke, the way he walked, the way he simply…existed, in many places at the same time, having lent his face and voice to the world for them to become a symbol of prodigies. Of his Anarchists who walked by his side and fought for an ideology that, although was a little deformed at this point, had solid basis.

His brother, whom David loved even if all he did lately was cause confusion in his mindset about the invisible line that divided society and the world in two sides, one of them being nameless, faceless, yet heavy and dangerous, like the omnipresent entity Alec had been before his cry of war became louder than existence and the whole city bent down at his feet.

David saw Alec as he walked him through the Italy streets, young and without under-eye bags, telling him how good and affordable this new bakery he had found was; he saw his hand over his knee, putting a Band-Aid in the wound caused by David falling off from his bike; he saw him there, leading all of those strikes, unshakeable.

And David realized he was terrified.

He was distraught.

Because even if he knew he didn’t agree with some of the things Alec said and did, he knew he was his brother.

And if this was the day where he didn’t come back to the cathedral, he would take a piece of David with him.

He didn’t know if he was mentally ready to go through that; a part of him suspected that it would happen at some point….

But not now.

_Please._

David opened the meeting room’s door, frantic.

Rat, who was sitting alone at the table, distant and quiet, didn’t even flinch, and instead he just stared at David, whose breaths were hasty.

“What’s happening?” David asked, gasping for air. “Why are there so many reporters at the door? Where’s Ace?”

Rat straightened himself in his chair, and then he shook a little candy wrapper out of the table.

“The rebels attacked Cragmoor yesterday.” He notified David.

“Atomic Brain is dead.”

Adrenaline abandoned his body in a way so sudden David felt like throwing up.

However, he didn’t.

But, still, he couldn’t help but try to process the information as fast as he could, and his whole skull pounded so hard he had to sit in the nearest chair he could find.

Teary-eyed, still recovering from the rollercoaster he had just experienced, David put both of his hands around his mouth.

In that moment, knowing that Alec was still alive but more likely enraged, David was left with one single notion.

_Man._

Those rebels were _fucked._

And poor, shattered Gatlon was going down with them.

-.-

Water elementals were recruited from different gangs that sympathized with Alec as soon as they received the news.

Those elementals came faster than Leroy expected, only to find Cragmoor turned into a total mess.

According to the reports, the rebels hadn’t reached the prison, but the tsunami had been powerful enough to damage the structure and kill some of the inmates. Fortunately, there were not many of them in the prison area whatsoever. After all, Alec was using it both as a prison and as a trading spot….and it was evident which one of the two was prioritized over the other.

Truth to be told, there were more people in the security staff than there were inmates; Cragmoor was highly secured, so the rebels would’ve been found right after they did whatever they were planning to do (it was presumed they were trying to steal the cargo ship)…things didn’t go as planned, of course. Nor for them or the people who happened to be at the island at the moment of the assault.

One would’ve thought they would start the report to Alec by telling him the mildly bad news first, but when the call arrived to the cathedral, the delivered message had been:

_“The rebels attacked Cragmoor. Atomic Brian is dead.”_

Leroy was still wondering whether they were just dumb or if they genuinely wanted to die.

At first it was shocking even for him, but what Leroy felt couldn’t possibly be compared to what Alec was feeling. Because even now, that the island was clear (although the ground was a muddy mess), Alec’s posture was rigid and his eyes looked darker than usual, as if he had lost _weeks_ of sleep in only a couple of hours.

The weather didn’t seem well for any of them. Nor for Leroy, Honey or Ingrid, as they stood by Alec’s side, in the prison yard, where all the bodies of the tsunami’s victims were being displayed and still brought in by volunteer rescuers and the elemental prodigies who were helping to get rid of the tsunami’s remnants.

The bodies were on the floor, covered with white sheets, and people came and went from behind them.

A man, who had a bandage around his right arm and another in his eye, stood in front of them, being questioned by Alec and looking slightly distracted by Honey, who was minding her own business trying to slap a mosquito, with her usually perfect blond curls turned into a frizzy monstrosity around her head.

“All of them prodigies?” Alec asked.

“All of them, sir.” The man nodded. “The tsunami was caused by one of the 5. Female, not older than 13, but they all were wearing…”

_**SLAP!** _

“Shit.”

The sound of Honey hitting her own skin with her palm got into each and every single one of Leroy’s nerves. And, for what he could see, also in Alec’s, as he reached for Honey’s wrist and put her hand down, placing it by her side as if she were a little kid. She didn’t seem very offended about it, though.

She had that coming.

Ingrid, who was an actual child, knew how to behave way better than her.

Alec massaged the bridge of his nose to get back what was left of his now barely existent patience.

Leroy didn’t know much about feelings, as he had no clue about how to manage his own sometimes, but he suspected… _no._ Leroy could _almost_ tell Alec was grieving.

And that, on its own, was an odd show to watch. Not one of his favorites, personally.

“Proceed.” Alec spoke, and more than a request, it sounded like a command.

The witness caught the bitterness and authoritarianism in his tone, so he straightened his back like his life depended on it (because maybe it did) and cleared his throat before speaking again.

“All the suspects were wearing black balaclavas, so they couldn’t be properly identified.” He said. “However, one of them was…uhm…was….”

The man slowed down once he say Alec’s narrowing eyes. It was evident, almost _tangible_ that this person was terrified.

Leroy was sure that absolutely _no one_ blamed him.

“The Thunderbird was spotted… _identified_ among them.”

Honey and Ingrid scoffed, but Alec massaged the temple of his nose again. This time, he appeared to be trying to break it in half with his bare hand.

“So…” Honey spoke. “What you’re saying is that…you got your asses beat by a group of spoiled teenagers. Classy.”

“The…the kid. The youngest of them all, is very powerful. She was able to carry a huge wave with her bare hands.”

Leroy nodded automatically. He could recall The Thunderbird having a water elemental by her side. She had slapped Honey with a small wave.

But, if what this man was saying was true, she had grown to be more than that.

“It’s the same group of rebels.” Leroy said, staring at Alec even if he wasn’t staring back at him. “The Thunderbird, the girl of the waves, the wingless flying girl, Chromium and the Invisible Boy”

And yes, the fact that they kept getting beat up by a group of clueless teenagers was stupid and ridiculous, but that’s the way things were.

That’s the way things were going down.

It was hilarious watching this man in this complete state of panic, though. And Leroy would’ve been more than happy to mock him.

At least, if Alec hadn’t turned towards him and Honey, saying:

“I have come into terms with the realization of who are we to blame for this situation.” He said, severely. “For we would not be facing this if you two had ended The Thunderbird’s life that night at the dumpster in the moment she _dared_ to reject me. Those rascals are going to pay, but they would not be in debt if it were not because of you.”

Being that said, Ace turned around and started walking away, with Ingrid walking….or more likely jogging behind him (her legs were still short).

Honey was grimacing, as if she had just eaten a raw lemon, while Leroy just stood there.

Had Alec just…?

“Pfft.”

A chuckle.

Leroy’s train of thought had been interrupted by a chuckle.

The man, who was _lucky_ to be alive after such a ridiculous yet mortal tragedy, was laughing at _them._

And that, honestly, was something Leroy couldn’t allow.

That’s why, nonchalantly, he threw acid at his arm. And, with an almost elegant wave of her hand, Honey sent a swarm of bees to the side of his face that wasn’t injured.

Then, they walked away, without stopping for a second to wonder if this guy would have to be part of the body count.


	7. The Night after The Assault to Cragmoor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Today…” His voice filled the space around him, as well as it flowed out of the old TV’s speakers. “Is a dark day. For Gatlon City, for us citizens, and for us Anarchists.”

**6: The Night after the Assault to Cragmoor**

David was watching Alec from the bed behind him.

Atomic Brain’s death had been treated like what it was: The death of an important personality in Alec’s regime. Not that David agreed with that, but his’ was prioritized over all the victims’ of the event that had been officially denominated as _The Assault to Cragmoor._ Even his body had been given more relevance than they gave to the others found/recovered at the scene.

Healer prodigies were recruited to practice an autopsy, only to discern whether Atomic Brain was already dead in the moment of the tsunami or if he had died _during_ the event. It turned out he apparently had been given electroshock a few minutes before his death and his eyes showed a damage pattern in them, but his body had shut down _during_ the tsunami. Hence, the official cause of death had been registered as homicidal drowning, due to the survivors’ witnesses collectively stating one of the rebels was a water elemental and, for instance, the cause of the tsunami.

Honestly, that made everything _even_ worse.

The memorial for Atomic Brain had been quickly put together, unlike many of the funerary events in Gatlon, where a body could sit for _days_ in a funeral home before it was delivered to the families.

In Atomic Brain’s case, everything, including the autopsy, had taken barely a couple of hours. And, if everything went according to plan, he would be buried by midnight. Less than 24 hours after his death.

The memorial would be held downtown, where the Anarchists and reporters that wanted to accompany them would get by foot. Then, the casket would be exposed to the citizens of Gatlon for a couple of minutes, while Alec gave a speech about lord-knows-what, as he had refused to let anyone know about it. This time, David was included among the general exception.

So all he did was stare, as Alec slowly took his helmet off and placed it in the table next to the full body mirror, in an act so solemn it sent shivers down David’s spine, as he came to the shocking realization this was the first time in what it felt like forever that he had seen Alec without his helmet or his Ace Anarchy costume; this time he was just Alec. Normal, civilian Alec. Just him and his funeral suit against the world.

For a moment, he hesitated, and David thought he would put the helmet back on…but although it was evident he thought about it, the helmet remained on the table, and Alec adjusted the sleeves of the jacket.

“Brother.” David dared to speak. The word left a weird under taste all over his mouth.

“Do you need to talk?”

Alec didn’t stare at him, not even through the mirror. Instead, he kept himself busy adjusting pieces of his suit that didn’t need to be adjusted at all.

“During times like these, talking becomes overrated, as well as miserably overshadowed by _doing._ ” Alec said in a low voice. “The fallen shall be avenged as the hand that holds the knife shall be amputated.”

After that, Alec didn’t say anything else and limited himself to leave the room.

David stayed there, sitting on the bed, for a couple of seconds more. Smelling the vestiges of his brother’s cologne, and staring at the helmet that, at this point, felt like an additional part of Alec.

Well, some time ago it had been a part of David too, even if he refused to admit it.

Having it right there, so close, David wondered a lot of things.

What would happen if…?

No.

He wouldn’t.

And he didn’t.

-.-

David met Alec by the main gate of the cathedral, which was still closed; all of the main Anarchists were gathered around him, surrounding him by –probably- irrelevant chatter.

It occurred to him that his presence could help him relax a bit but timing happened to be just…not right.

In the moment David arrived, Honey Harper finished making her way down the stairs.

She looked ready for a night party more than she looked ready for a memorial/funeral, with her long black dress, skin-tight from waist up and a little loosened from the area of her legs. It only had one sleeve, and her whole torso area was covered by a layer of mesh fabric. Her makeup itself looked less scandalous than usual, but David could tell she had applied fake redness under her eyes to appear that she had been crying, despite wearing a glossy blood-red lipstick that was obviously meant to catch all the attention.

“Too much?” She asked when she approached Ace, to which he smiled weakly at her and offered her his left arm.

“You look flawless. You are a queen, Honey Harper.”

Once again, she made her signature hand wave of fake modesty and interlocked her right arm between Alec’s.

They proceeded, then, to get into their somehow established formation, where they were able to walk in front of each other but not in front of Ace, and David had to walk at the back because he was not that important of an element.

But now that Atomic Brain was gone forever, an empty space remained by Alec’s right side, and for a minute, a question hovered above their heads, waiting to be answered, until all the eyes in the group landed on one single person.

Upon that realization, Cyanide took a step forward to fill the gap.

Alec nodded, fully accepting and acknowledging his presence right there, next to him.

Then, he took a deep breath, calm.

The gates opened right before their eyes, the only thing pushing them being Alec’s mind.

Chaos greeted the grieving anarchists. Blinding flashes and thousands of people holding microphones and cameras, speaking at the same time, very loudly, as if that would make any difference in Alec’s decision to refuse to answer their questions.

Then, a casket that made David feel as if bile was going up his knotted up throat.

The casket inside of which Atomic Brain would remain for the rest of eternity, lifeless.

After a small, respectful bow, Alec looked straight ahead, his left arm tightening around Honey’s.

His other arm raised to the height of his chest, elevating the casket with it, in a hypnotic yet terrifying way.

-.-

Evander Wade woke up surrounded by strangers, in a house that was definitely not big enough for 5 people, among which there was a girl with a pair of wings that took a lot of space.

When he managed to remember what had happened and recognized the other flying girl (the one without wings), he knew he wasn’t going home.

Somehow, Evander didn’t shed a tear, even though he knew this would be the most painful thing he’d ever have to face. Still, this group of strangers gave him his space, and waited until he was up and around to introduce themselves.

With a lot of remorse, and even a lot of shame, Kasumi Hasegawa identified herself as the one to blame for what had happened to the ship he was travelling in. Having had young parents who were there during the period time Ace Anarchy conquered Gatlon, Evander had been raised under particular circumstances. That is, he had been told he had to defend himself against minimal signs of aggression towards his person, so when he heard the story, he kept his gaze on a butter knife (not that that would’ve made too much damage in her, but it could’ve done at least something) until Hugh Everhart got it out of his reach.

Outside of that, Evander didn’t need much further information.

He knew the ship had sunk thanks to a tsunami caused by Kasumi; he knew he had managed to make it out alive and climb into a floating mattress; he knew Georgia Rawles had found him nearly three hours after the sinking; he knew she had found him because, somehow, he was a prodigy now and his gift was to manipulate light, which had allowed him to send emergency flares; and, most importantly, he knew his parents and siblings were dead.

And there wasn’t much more to it.

He had a couple of bruises and scratches here and there, and Georgia had taken care of them, while Hugh Everhart wrapped some bandages around Simon Westwood’s wrist, which appeared to be dislocated or at least badly sprained. Evander didn’t understand why, but when he noticed Simon’s wound, Hugh got really mad, to the point he even slammed his own fist against a table, _very_ hard, until Simon told him to stop because _it wasn’t his fault._

There were a couple of huge elephants in the room, and nobody was addressing them.

And of course, none of them dared to look him in the eye without getting really flustered in the process….especially Kasumi.

But the weird thing was that Evander believed them.

He believed every single word about them not having murdered his family on purpose, but in an act of self-defense.

His parents had told him about how Ace Anarchy’s movement had started out fine, but had gotten out of control over time, until it turned into…

Well.

Anarchy.

It was called The Age of Anarchy for a reason.

So, Evander believed them.

That wouldn’t bring his parents or brothers back. But at least they had died for an actual cause. Somebody trying to stop Ace Anarchy from stealing resources from people who actually needed them.

_Sometimes,_ dad used to say, _there are things that might seem reckless and dumb, and if you have a little self-preservation you’ll stop yourself from doing them. But in the end somebody will, because they have to be done.”_

It was unfair. Very unfair.

But it would’ve been even more unfair if they had died to the hands of Ace Anarchy, because all he did was take lives for the sake of it…or at least that’s what mom used to say because, for her, killing people for the sake of it meant killing them for daring to disagree with you.

Perhaps they would’ve like to see somebody was finally trying…but, sadly, Evander would never know.

And it hurt, but still he had no tears.

He just knew he believed them, and that he wasn’t going home because it didn’t matter anymore, as he had no one to go home to.

And he knew there was a fly on the edge of the mug he was eating instant ramen from.

Evander didn’t know what possibly could have made them think he was hungry. In fact, none of them were eating, nor did they seem like they had taken care of themselves over the last few hours, besides disinfecting and healing their wounds. They were trying to pretend they were still doing just fine but, at least for Evander, it was evident they hadn’t slept for almost 24 hours or more now. And, knowing what they had done, they were surrounded by this… weird air of tiredness and fear, just waiting for the disaster to happen.

Out of nowhere, Hugh came into the room and put a glass with tea on the nightstand; Evander didn’t understand why would somebody drink tea from a glass, but he supposed they had ran out of cups.

In the bed next to him (an individual bed with two pillows), there was Kasumi, crossed-legged, trying to complete an embroidery work Georgia hadn’t finished because Simon had interrupted her, talking about how much his wrist hurt.

The TV was on. And if Evander were them, he would’ve kept it like that until his eyes burned from looking at it, because they certainly had had a tough time trying to make it catch the bunny ear antenna’s signal.

However, when Hugh realized said TV was on, he didn’t seem very happy about it.

“We agreed not to watch that crap.”

“Uh. _No.”_ Tamaya Rae turned her head towards him. She was sitting on the floor, between Georgia Rawles and Simon. Apparently, it was the only way which she wouldn’t block his view or Kasumi’s. “ _You_ decided we wouldn’t watch it without asking anybody and we ignored you anyways.”

“Why do you _even_ insist on watching it? Do you want to be reminded of how screwed we are?”

“Yes. Now shut up, I’m trying to listen to my death sentence.”

Since he was right next to him, Evander saw the exact moment when Hugh’s face, neck, ears and his whole being turned as red as an apple, but he was just preparing to talk back, when Georgia stopped him with a calm:

“Hugh, don’t. _Please._ Cut it off.”

And he did. He cut it off, reluctantly.

That’s when Evander decided to pay attention to the TV to understand better what was this all about. And let’s just say that it didn’t take him much time to understand it.

Atomic Brain’s funeral procession was being televised.

Ace Anarchy, Cyanide and Queen Bee were leading it, but nobody was carrying the casket…not physically carrying it, at least, because Ace Anarchy was doing it with his mind.

Reporters, cameramen, and sympathizers stood at a distance Evander would’ve described as “prudent”. They didn’t seem to have enough room to breathe, but nobody was invading their personal space directly.

They walking slowly, with no tears shed, although Evander couldn’t judge them because of that because, after all, he had lost his parents the same day they had lost Atomic Brain, and Evander wasn’t crying either. However, seeing them was as confusing as seeing himself and his situation.

There was a person who was narrating what was happening to the camera, while a person in the corner of the screen translated everything in sign language. But, to be fair, any of the people in this room were paying attention to that. All eyes were on Ace Anarchy, even Hugh’s, no matter how hard he tried to appear uninterested.

Down on the floor, Simon started biting the nails of the hand that had no bandages, so Tamaya took it out of his reach, placed it in his own knee and patted it.

The live transmission kept going until the procession reached downtown.

A regular sized stage had been displayed, with the Anarchist symbol projected in the back wall.

Atomic Brain’s casket was placed in a platform in front of the scenario, decorated by crimson roses.

Among the Anarchists that stood on the stage were, according to what Evander could remember from the action figures he owned: Besides Ace Anarchy, Cyanide and Queen Bee (of course), The Detonator, Rat and Brimstone. The others were sitting in the first two rows of chairs, while the remaining space was occupied by….other important people, Evander supposed.

The narrator went quiet when Ace Anarchy and all the Anarchists placed their hands on their hearts and lowered their heads.

From this side of the screen, the guys did too, although Hugh hesitated a little, and Evander did it definitely not thinking about Atomic Brain.

The camera started focusing on different people. First it was Queen Bee, with her eyes closed, following Ace Anarchy’s prayer with her lips as if she didn’t force her bees to devour people on a daily basis; then it was Cyanide, who was in complete silence, with his eyes still open and running them all over the place discretely; then, Ace Anarchy.

The man.

The leader.

The man who was praying and that, Evander could’ve sworn, looked as if he were holding his hand tighter against his chest.

And said hand was shaking, even if it was in the bare minimum and could be missed by a blink.

Then he finished his prayer and lowered his hand to the side, followed by the rest of the attendants, in an almost synchronized way.

For a couple of seconds, Ace’s stare was fixated at the front, then he lowered it again, and next time the camera focused on the whole frame, he was already standing by the podium adjusting the microphone so his voice could be heard more clearly.

“Today…” His voice filled the space around him, as well as it flowed out of the old TV’s speakers. “Is a dark day. For Gatlon City, for us citizens, and for us Anarchists.”

Evander stared at the people surrounding him, especially Kasumi. And it’s not that she looked affected, but her eyes were fully focused on the casket, while at the same time looking as if they were lost in an endless void, and Evander couldn’t quite put his finger on what she was feeling.

“It pains me to see how the people from the city we built to become a safe space for prodigies get corrupted and rebel against the ones who gave their everything to make their lives better; how they willingly stain their hands with the blood that could have been shed in bigger battles against those who neglected and oppressed us.” Ace Anarchy spoke.

“Over the last couple of years, I have done my best to keep this city from falling into pieces. All I have and all I have yet to have belongs to my cause and my fellow citizens and Anarchists, and I have seen myself in the need to overlook and dismiss certain events that have threatened the stability and peace I have managed to create out of a city that was drowning in prejudice, iniquity and hatred.”

Hugh scoffed, but was immediately silenced by Georgia, who turned around making a little “Sssh” sound, with her index finger over her lips.

“And for the last couple of years, I have tried to pacify the voices that maliciously have been trying to speak over mine, through a vessel of faceless figures and horrid actions that do nothing but bring back the hostility to our environment and stain the names of their fellow prodigies.”

The Anarchist symbol disappeared from the screen, being replaced by low-quality recordings taken from security cameras.

Evander recognized the figures in black balaclavas that appeared in the screen, just because they were the same people who were with him in the room at the moment. Every single one of them had a capture where the word “Unidentified” could be read, except Tamaya, who had “The Thunderbird”. And Simon didn’t really appear in none of those tapes, but there seemed to be an invisible prodigy, whose position was marked by a red circle, according to the things that were moving unnaturally around him (things that seemed to be moving by themselves). Evander guessed that was him.

They showed them committing every type of felony a person could commit, but judging for their facial expressions, their eyebrows arched in confusion and Hugh’s body language that announced he was this close to setting himself on fire, Evander started suspecting all these tapes were altered.

For example, Hugh getting inside of a train which, according to the recording, he later attacked and The Detonator had to make it explode only to stop him.

Simon “stealing” things from one of the numerous Anarchist trading spots.

Georgia and Tamaya lifting people up at plain sight.

And a very, _very_ low-quality, damaged recording where Kasumi’s petite figure could be seen holding what seemed to be a monstrous wave.

Images from last night.

The wave that had caused the sinking of the ship and almost took Evander’s life.

“All this time I have spared your transgressions and made amends for damages that were not caused by me, but by you; but today you have made your point. Your voices have been heard, loud and clear, and I am no longer willing to overlook past your crimes and malicious actions and pretend you are not here. You wanted to be seen, and now you are. You are prominent, massive and raucous.”

Simon wiped his tears with a trembling hand, but Tamaya and Georgia didn’t even try, although Tamaya looked in a deep state of shock.

“I will not try to silence your battle cry, because when I was chosen as your leader I promised my prodigies, my brothers, that they would be heard and would have the right to protest against those who dared to do them wrong; but if it is me you have decided to go against, then I promise to be a worthy opponent to your vile cause. “ Ace Anarchy’s voice sounded heavier and more terrifying than ever.

“If you are hearing this, which I am sure you are, I am asking you to show yourself as soon as you can for this to be a fair war for both of us.”

And Evander’s whole body shivered.

It went cold.

Then hot again.

And everything was so surreal it was overwhelming.

“As for the rest of us: Today we grieve and pray to the Odds to allow justice to be served, for this day the valuable life of a visionary, a hero and, most importantly, an Anarchist, has been lost to the hands of betrayal. Hands whom he gave rights. Hands whom he pledged to protect at all costs.” He kept his eyes on the audience.

“May our fellow Anarchist, Atomic Brain, rest in glory and peace. He may be gone, but his loss will not be in vain.”

The Anarchists behind him took their hand up to their hearts again, and Evander could totally see as Queen Bee’s lips started arching in a mischievous smile.

However, he didn’t get to see it in its full beauty because Georgia crawled towards the TV and turned it off.

Then, the room fell into a painful and cold silence full of pure terror and distress.

Swollen and watery eyes were placed on Hugh, who wasn’t staring back at any of them, but was looking at the floor instead.

Evander couldn’t possibly know what these people were going through, but he knew it wasn’t pretty.

And he knew that, whatever they were expecting, they didn’t expect it to be _this_ bad.

Truth to be told, he was in a room full of people _the_ Ace Anarchy had declared the war to.

He was practically in a room full of corpses.

“Hugh.” Simon hiccupped. “What do we do, _Hugh_?”

The alluded didn’t answer for a while.

But then, with a nervous laugh, he said:

“What real men do.”

“What does that even mean, Hugh?!” Simon snapped, in a high-pitched voice.

It meant that everything was downhill from there.


	8. Runaways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why should you care if you end up becoming a shitshow? Every single one of the Anarchists is a shitshow. The world is a shitshow.”

**7: Runaways**

Because real men ran away from trouble, apparently.

These people had a second hand truck, which Evander was starting to suspect was older than himself. Hugh had bought it, from what he could understand, as he was the one who appeared to know what things needed to be fixed before using it for a long trip.

While Evander sat on the porch, Hugh had his head shoved in the engine and Simon was handing him any tool he needed.

Evander was sure Hugh was no mechanic, but adrenaline was taking the best out of him. In the last 45 minutes, he had come up with the _greatest_ ideas, like using Tamaya as a power source if they ran out of battery in the middle of nowhere.

He looked stressed, as if he were about to have a stroke, while Simon was stuttering his way out of his sentences and shaking like a washing machine. Watching them as they gave up like this was…interesting, to say the least.

The sound of something shattering against the floor reached Evander’s ears, followed by an enraged growl that certainly hadn’t come from Georgia or Kasumi.

Simon jumped, and a screwdriver almost fell on his foot (he stepped back 0.2 seconds before that happened).

“What’s happening in there?!” Hugh screamed.

Although, actually, he didn’t.

Evander had spent like a day with them, and that had been enough to realize Hugh’s voice was naturally loud. It seemed like every trait he possessed as a person fit perfectly with his powers. It was pretty evident he had been born with them.

No response, and Hugh was about to throw the stained cloth on top of the truck when Evander stood up, saying:

“I’ll go check.”

And, unexpectedly, Hugh flinched.

“…How long have you been there?”

That shouldn’t have surprised him, nor offended him. But, still, Evander couldn’t help but feel a little invisible and even ignored. Alone.

However, he tried to put himself in their shoes, and remind himself these people were _in danger._ They hadn’t received an ultimatum from their bosses from their _family-friendly jobs_ (they seemed to have an inside joke about how they had double lives, with normal jobs during the day and fixing what Ace Anarchy had broken at night, and the punchline was the usage of _family-friendly)_ (hilarious. Teenagers were hilarious). They had received an ultimatum from Ace Anarchy.

So, Evander just scoffed, and repeated himself.

“I’ll go check.”

Before Hugh or Simon could respond, Evander started heading inside, where there was a different type of chaos.

“ _ **Now we only have four mugs!**_ ”

“Kasumi, darling. Are you okay?”

The girls were gathered in the kitchen, a broken mug was by Kasumi’s feet, and Georgia was helping her jump across it so she wouldn’t step on any of the broken pieces.

“You have to be more careful!”

“Tamaya, stop.” Georgia _glared_ at Tamaya, and that sent chills down Evander’s spine as, out of the 4, she seemed to be the most calm and patient. “You’re acting disgusting.”

“OH! Am _I_?” Tamaya shoved her hand in her chest.

“You are! She could’ve hurt herself!”

“Yeah, and good thing she didn’t, but…! “

“ _Why_ are you fighting over mugs?”

Evander turned around, only to find out Hugh and Simon had come into the room anyway.

He somehow knew what all of this was about.

They didn’t want to “arrange” things for their runaway. They just wanted to fight, because they needed someone to blame for all of this.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be. Fine. Why are you trying to fix that piece of garbage? It will not even take us to the nearest gas station.”

“That should not be your problem.” Hugh chuckled.

“Hugh…”

“Taking you in the truck would be like carrying a flag around. But it’s not like you care about that, do you? You always talk about how we’re so childish and reckless…”

“BECAUSE YOU ARE!”

“And how we don’t care about the consequences of our actions and…”

“BECAUSE YOU _**DON’T!**_ ”

Evander gulped and, suddenly, he felt Georgia’s hand on his shoulders, massaging them.

Tamaya had moved towards the space in the cupboard they used as a pantry, and was starting to move things around, without really taking anything.

“Do you honestly believe _I don’t_ care about what’s happening? About what we’ve gotten ourselves into?”

Tamaya slammed the little door, furious.

Then, she turned back to keep wrapping the dishes in newspaper; when Kasumi reached out to her to try to help she just clicked her tongue, which sent the message perfectly, and Kasumi stepped back then, playing with her hands in a nervous manner.

“Why are we e _ven_ taking the dishes with us? Why are we taking _anything_ with us? If _you_ cared about what’s happening, we would already be on the road instead of _packing_ like we were going on a fucking vacation.”

“Did _you_ buy those things, _Hugh?!_ ”

“I didn’t, but there are things I bought in this house and I’m not clinging on them like a fucking..!”

“BUT I’M NOT YOU, SO FUCK OFF!” Tamaya turned back at him.

Her eyes, to Evander’s perception, looked absolutely demonic. They even looked more yellow, and electric; she was losing control and she knew it, so she just tried to breathe and kept doing what she was previously doing.

Hugh, on the other side, walked towards her and grabbed one of the mugs.

This only sent shivers down Evander’s spine, because he _knew_ he was doing that only to spite her.

And it was working, because Tamaya started shaking, although she refused to speak.

“Hugh, please, leave her alone. Let her take the mugs, for God’s sa—“

“This is _my_ mug and I get to decide if it stays or not.”

“Can we stop fighting over mugs, again?” Simon begged.

“Do I have to repeat myself, Hugh? _It’s not yours if_ ** _I_** _bought it!”_

“Yeah. Good thing _Georgie_ was the one who bought mine.”

“HUGH!”

But Georgia’s scream got mixed up with the sound of Tamaya’s fist against the table.

“PERHAPS WE SHOULD JUST FIX THIS LIKE NORMAL HUMAN BEINGS AND STOP FIGHTING LIKE TODDLERS!” She snapped. “We split up. Everybody takes with them whatever shit they want to take. No one gets hurt. Ace Anarchy kills us separately. The end.”

“Okay, let’s just…” Simon tried to speak, constantly gulping. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves, there’s no need to…”

“Actually no, Simon! I’m not getting ahead of myself. I think this the best idea that I’ve had in _months_!” She laughed sarcastically. “We take separate ways and we pretend the others don’t exist, like they were never there. And then life goes on.”

“Yeah. Except it _doesn’t_ because you’re missing the little detail Ace Anarchy is _chasing_ us.”

“Well, in that case, here’s another idea: You let _me_ detach from the group so you finally get rid of the flag that will get you all killed faster.”

“ _No one_ is saying that.”

“WHAT A SHITTY MEMORY YOU MUST HAVE BECAUSE YOU JUST _**DID!**_ ”

He had, honestly.

And that had been really low.

However, after a minute, the smell of burned wood filled the room, and Evander came to the realization he must’ve spaced out, because when he fell Georgia letting go of his body, he finally saw the huge mark on the floor, where the lightning bolt had landed.

“Tamaya!” Georgia started storming out of the room. “ _ **TAMAYA, PLEASE!”**_

The beating of wings filled Evander’s ears, aggressive and deafening.

When he managed to regain control of his feet and followed the others to the living room, both Tamaya and Georgia were knelt down on the floor; Georgia was hugging her very tightly, even though Tamaya was barely touching her.

She looked furious, sad and, at the same time, absolutely empty and destroyed.

And right there, shrunken against Georgia’s body, while her wings moved involuntarily, she also looked small.

So very small.

Her eyes, suddenly, laid on Kasumi, who at this point was trembling even more than Simon.

“You’re not the only one that’s scared.” Hugh told her. “The thing is…we all are. But _you…”_

“You’re also acting disgusting.” Georgia suddenly said. And she didn’t let go of Tamaya, but it was evident that she wasn’t in a good mood anymore.

“You’re acting disgusting and you’re being mean. And we’re all acting disgusting because we’re just letting them kill each other as if we didn’t exist! What is _wrong_ with us, people?!”

“ _You_ …” Tamaya sniffed, as she pointed at Hugh and freed herself from Georgia. “Are on fucking thin ice.”

“Stop.” Georgia begged, frustrated. “ _Goddamn, please,_ ** _please_** _just stop.”_

“I’ll tell you what you have to do: you have to stop your balls from growing bigger than they already are because you’re gonna get all of us killed.” She said, as Hugh’s eyes narrowed more and more with every second. “Hugh, you cannot expect to fix a world that you cannot even change in the first place. You only have two hands.”

Hugh scoffed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

“So I only have two.”

“Yes. You only have two. Because _these_ hands…” She waved both of her hands right in front of Hugh’s face, to which he remained immutable. “Belong to _me._ Simon’s hands belong to _him_ , Kasumi’s hands belong to _her_ and Georgia’s hands belong to _her_. That’s how the fucking human body works and you should have learned that by now.”

“So you’re saying…”

“I’m not allowing you to… _ **mansplain**_ my words, because I’m sure as fuck you know what I mean!” Tamaya snapped again. “We’re alone, Hugh! We live in a shithole and everyone’s alone! WE’VE BEEN INSIDE THIS… AWFUL THING SINCE ACE ANARCHY ASCENDED FROM HELL AND THAT’S THE WAY THINGS _**ARE**_ AND THAT’S HOW THEY SHALL STAY BECAUSE HE’S GONNA GET US KILLED!”

She laughed, and then she wiped her face, as everyone stared in silence.

As _Hugh_ stared in silence.

“Look at us, Hugh. We live in a claustrophobic teapot and we barely have anything to eat. “ She chuckled in pain. “And you can rub your powers in people’s faces all you want but that won’t change the fact we’re still freaks; you may have the strength to stop a train with your bare hands. Maybe you even have the strength to carry a whole building on your own but people will still look at you the same. To them, we’re still pure human waste; I could save somebody’s life and they would still call me a scavenger bird in _my_ face as if carrying with these disgusting things I didn’t ask for wasn’t bad enough already. We can’t carry our own lives, Hugh, do you really expect…”

But then, out of a sudden, the mug in Hugh’s hand exploded; just like that. A “Crack!” filled the room, and then the remnants of the painted ceramic were at his feet, shattered. And Tamaya stopped her rant for a minute, massaging the bridge of her nose with her eyes closed.

“ _ **Three**_ mugs.” She said. “Now we only have _**three**_ mugs. You know what? This sums up in the fact we should just stick to being the whole fucking circus instead of becoming a shitshow.”

The words just slipped out of her mouth, and out of all the responses they could’ve given her, they chose silence.

Suffocating and cold silence.

“Do you _really_ think you’re alone?” Hugh asked in a hoarse voice, after a minute. “After all this time…Do you really think you’re alone and that you’re disgusting and all those things you just said?”

“I think you made a pretty clear point when you talked about how I’m a flag.” She said. “And yes, I am. I don’t need to be in a constant reminder of that. I already know. Ssssh. Shut it.”

“I WAS TRYING TO…!”

“AND NOW I’M TELLING YOU TO _**SHUT IT**_.”

“I SAY EVERYONE SHOULD _**SHUT IT!”**_

Simon’s voice sounded foreign and distant, as if it was coming from the bottom of a very deep pit…fortunately, it was enough to turn all the eyes towards him in a matter of seconds.

He was shaking, and his whole face and neck were red, as his chest went up and down forcibly, making him seem like he was having a hard time breathing.

“You’re out of control.” He said. “We’re supposed to be like…a team. A family. I-isn’t it so?”

No response, and Evander saw the exact moment when a thick vessel of tears covered his eyes.

“What’s wrong with you? Why do you feel the need to act like this when we need each other the most?” He hiccupped. “I do believe we’re a team. A-and…and I _refuse_ to agree with Tamaya because, for all I care, I’m not leaving Kasumi alone. I will _not_ let a child to be abandoned like that because I’m _not_ and I won’t _ever_ be like my parents. I’m not letting Evander alone either.”

Evander flinched to the mention of his name, but he didn’t respond. Not yet.

“Hugh is not the only one to blame for this.” He said. “We all are. We knew it was dangerous and yet we did it anyways….because…maybe, _maybe,_ we knew that what we were doing was not wrong, even if we were…attacking Ace Anarchy.”

“So what if it wasn’t wrong? It got out of control any—“

“We’ve helped people. And those people…t-they….they could’ve betrayed us by selling us to Ace Anarchy. But they didn’t.” Simon gulped. His whole body was flickering. “S-so…I guess…we did something good, alright? Didn’t we? “

A minute that ended up feeling like an eternity passed, and then Kasumi spoke, in a squeaky and broken voice.

“I don’t wanna split up.” She said. “….You’re the only family I’ve ever had.”

“We’re not splitting up. We’re just stressed and we’re saying messed up things that we don’t mean.” Georgia answered, drawing all the attention towards her. “Right? _Hugh? Tamaya?_ ”

_Things that we don’t mean._

Of course. That was the explanation, always.

Saying things that we don’t mean just because we’re mad.

Evander had just met them a day ago, and even he was feeling attacked by the horrible things they were screaming to each other. He felt attacked, sad and mad at the same time.

However, the part of him that wasn’t yet a part of this group but a civilian, felt disappointed.

Because, against all odds, Evander still believed them.

He didn’t know why, but he did.

He believed his parents and brothers hadn’t died in vain; that their deaths had been for a reason; for a bigger good.

He believed they wanted peace and not destruction, but he also believed they knew his family deserved to be avenged.

And if they gave up now, that would never happen.

Evander had survived for a reason, perhaps.

And he wasn’t willing to let them fall now that he was somehow connected to them.

“Why should you care if you end up becoming a shitshow? Every single one of the Anarchists is a shitshow. The world is a shitshow.”

Immediately, the attention was on him. For a moment, they seemed startled, as if they were surprised Evander had the ability to speak.

“You don’t get to say whether or not you can change that if you haven’t tried in the first place. You’re giving up when they’ve just given you a chance, and people who believe in you will be disappointed if you just disappear.”

“And who believes in us, exactly?” Tamaya scoffed.

“I do.” Evander looked at her directly in the eye, trying to remain unshakable, before Georgia spoke to him, with the same soothing, motherly tone of voice she was using before she went feral like the rest of the people in the room.

“Darling, you’re far too young to understand.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m far too young to understand a lot of things and yet.”

“And yet…?”

And yet here he was. Orphan.

“And yet.” He simply said, because he supposed they would understand why they didn’t need further explanation.

“I believe in us too.” Hugh said. “And I know it was me the one who suggested to leave but…what would that do? It would only make it worse and worse…and then, one day, he’ll find us. And he’ll win again.”

Hugh crossed his arms over his chest once again, lowering his head.

“We’ll be back in the beginning. And then these people…innocent citizens will have to wait for another group of reckless fools to dare to even try to speak above Ace Anarchy’s voice.” He said. “Because, yes, we are reckless fools. And that won’t make Atomic Brain less dead, nor it will make Ace Anarchy less mad….guys, our voices had been heard. Isn’t that what we wanted?”

“Oh, yeah. We wanted that.” Tamaya rolled her eyes. “But not like this.”

“Listen.” Hugh sighed. “I know what I said to you was fucked up and I’m sorry about that. And I know we’re all scared….but…okay. We wanted to be heard but not like this. And that’s fair. I don’t think anybody would ever want this. Nobody ever wants to be the first one to speak up.”

And that’s when, simply, Evander _knew._

“But somebody has to.” He finished Hugh’s sentence, to which he directed a half smile at him.

“And, in this life, that person happened to be us.” He told them, straightening his back. “Ace Anarchy knows we’re here. Now we gotta let him know that’s where we’re gonna stay. And for that…we’ll have to stick together.”

Being that said, Hugh held out his hand towards them. And, although at first it seemed they wouldn’t change their mind, Evander caught movement through the corner of his eye.

More specifically, the moment when Simon started moving and put his hand on top of Hugh’s, to which Hugh smiled in a kind of bittersweet manner and ruffled his hair playfully.

Next one was Georgia, who placed her hand on top of Simon’s.

Then Kasumi’s hand was on top of Georgia’s.

The last one was Tamaya, placing her hand on top of Kasumi’s, although avoiding eye contact with everybody.

Hugh, then, smiled showing his teeth.

“I’m thinking _Runaways._ ” He told them, confident and bold. “Because we’re not willing to stay here under Ace Anarchy’s regime until he drowns us all; because we’re being chased for doing the right thing.”

_Runaways._

It sounded good, but also pretty negative.

That’s why, in that very moment, Evander tried to come up with his own idea, and it didn’t take him much time to _find_ what he was looking for.

“It’s a great concept, but I think you need something more intimidating and less ‘boo, look at me. I’m the victim’ “

When they all lowered their hands for him, letting him know he had been acknowledged, Evander hesitated a little. Nevertheless, his hand guided itself towards Tamaya’s as if it was being attracted with a magnetic force.

Then, he felt a warm energy flowing through his body and, somehow, he knew he was doing the right thing.

They all were.

“ _Renegades_.” Evander pronounced. “That’s what we’ll be.”


	9. Renegades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, Si?” Hugh spoke in a hoarse voice, drawing Simon’s attention towards him. 
> 
> After that, he didn’t continue, so Simon forced himself to smile at him to reassure it was okay to keep going. 
> 
> “Maybe when we’re rich and able to run this city, we’ll have a blast laughing about this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm such a bad person agshjafghs I aLWAYS FORGET TO UPLOAD THE CHAPTERS IN HERE. BUT HEYYYYY HERE WE ARE, I PROMISE I WON'T FORGET ABOUT IT AGAIN :')   
> In case I do, here's like...the tumblr blog where this is being posted: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/claustrophobicteapot  
> Anyway :') hi <3 I'm sorry again, but here's the next chapter, yay!   
> Remember support is always appreciated :3 and I hope you're having a nice day <3

For the next couple of weeks, everything was about the plan. About the numerous “what if”. About what they would do if something went wrong; what they would do if they got caught; what they would do in case everything crumbled down and they had to start from scratch right at the scene.

They put it together. They did it again and again until it seemed perfect. They ate and sweated the plan.

Well, not really.

But yes.

The next thing they did, was writing the speech; Georgie came up with the great majority of the ideas because she tended to be really good with words but, in the end, they decided that the one who would _give_ the speech would be nobody but Hugh.

He supposed, then, that they had chosen him as their leader for some reason.

If he wanted to be brutally honest, memorizing the speech hadn’t been the hardest part; instead, said hardest part had been to figure out how to moderate his voice once all the information was stored in his brain, unwilling to move from there.

“ _…And if you are the hero and savior that you claim to be…”_

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold on now.” Simon waved his hand, staring at him from the floor.

They were cramped up in the bathroom, for Evander had said that, sometimes, he participated in little debate tournaments or stuff like that, and his favorite place in the house to practice was the bathroom, because the echo helped him hear himself.

However, their bathroom was so small and in such a poor state, that Hugh noticed no difference at all. If anything, it just made him feel as if he already were watching himself in the video, because, while Simon sat on the floor right in front of him holding the script, Kasumi was sitting crossed-legged on the toilet, and Evander, Georgie and Tamaya were by the door.

“What’s with the weird accent?” Simon asked, giggling.

Hugh almost didn’t notice he had been using a…kind of made up accent, but perhaps he had.

Perhaps he had confused changing his intonation with changing his _pronunciation_.

“I don’t know.” He said anyway, and then he cleared his throat, going back to the weird pronunciation before continuing.

“But sounds cool, right?”

Simon snorted in response, although Hugh wasn’t sure whether they could consider that to be _that_ funny.

“Dork.”

“Oh, yeah? Who are you calling a dork?”

“Hugh, don’t. Stop.”

Simon’s laugh became louder as Hugh knelt down in front of him and started ruffling his hair with his fist.

“ _Stoooooop!”_ He said again.

That’s when it occurred to him that it would be a good idea to start reciting the speech once again, with a way more exaggerated version of the accent, as Simon laughed so much he started to flicker.

They continued fooling around until Georgie came inside the bathroom to separate them, telling them it was time to focus.

That’s how the next couple of days passed by, until three days before recording the video they would use to go against Ace Anarchy, they found themselves sitting by the dining table, as Tamaya walked from one side to another, explaining the diagram she had made to simplify the plan, so it would be easier to go over it every time they felt like the need to.

“Okay, but…” Evander started. “I understand the plan is like…the most important part of this whole thing, but we’re missing one very important…issue.”

They stared at each other in a silent, collective doubt, and Tamaya, who was the one standing at the front, put her hands over her waist.

“What is it?”

“What are we wearing for the video?”

_Clothes._

And the thing was…If Hugh wanted to be brutally honest with himself and the others, that was possibly the one thing he had thought the least about, although it was indeed important, because it’s not like they could just appear in the video like normal civilians. This wasn’t supposed to be a mass suicide mission.

Even so, when the rest turned their gazes towards him, all Hugh could say was:

“I supposed we’re just…going in black. Like we did when we went to Cragmoor.”

The others nodded in agreement like little robots, not because this was a good idea but because, Hugh supposed, they couldn’t think of any other option.

Evander, on the other hand, didn’t look nearly as resigned or satisfied. And then he scoffed.

“No, we’re not. That’s not how this business works.”

Hugh clicked his tongue. Suddenly, he felt annoyed.

It’s not that he had much experience with children, but he knew they tended to be _this_ condescending sometimes.

He hated it.

“You’ve read too many comics.”

“And it seems to me you haven’t read any.”

“Okay. Everyone cool down.” Georgie stood up. “Hugh, you’re not throwing fists with a nine year old.”

He knew that. He wasn’t dumb enough to even _try._ But, sadly, Hugh understood where Georgie was coming from; both the girls and Simon had told him he had to work on his temper many times.

Like.

An embarrassing amount of times.

“…Mainly because I think he’s right.” She added.

Hugh wished she hadn’t said that, even though he was aware it _needed_ to be said.

What Evander didn’t need to do, was sticking out his tongue in his direction.

“Shouldn’t we have a disguise or something?” Georgie asked, ignoring the fact Hugh’s cheeks were becoming flushed. “Back in the day, people didn’t know the names of the original Anarchists…or their civilian forms.”

“Until the conspiracy theories about Ace Anarchy and Alec Artino being the exact same person happened to be right.” Simon chuckled.

Yes. They had a point.

Alec Artino had created Ace Anarchy during the riot period he, himself, had imposed with Queen Bee’s help; they started in universities that refused to allow prodigies in their facilities. A pair of semi-violent student riots here and there later turned into something bigger, because people started joining his cause, even if they were not prodigies.

When Ace Anarchy appeared to destroy and, consequently, rebuilt the city, attired in the now iconic blue and golden suit, with his helmet on his head, it didn’t take people much time to notice that when he manifested himself like a terrifying spectrum that crushed and destroyed everything standing on his way, the infamous Alec Artino disappeared into thin air.

So, his disguise hadn’t been _that_ useful in the end, but it had been _there,_ which meant it made perfect sense for them to have disguises too.

“You’re right.” Hugh nodded. “But what do you suggest? What should we do? I mean, I personally don’t know how so sew.”

“Even if we knew how to sew, it’s not like we have the materials to make our own costumes.” Tamaya said.

And, sadly, she had a point too.

For a while, they remained in silence, until Kasumi, who was playing with a plastic fork, brought her gaze up to a blank point.

“Georgie.” She said.

“Kasumi.” Georgie responded with a kind smile, as Kasumi finally managed to look her in the eye.

“Remember that woman that you worked for?”

“Could you be more specific? I’ve worked for a lot of wo—“

“Last year? The one from the costume shop? The one who was getting robbed and didn’t even notice until…?”

“OH! YES, I REMEMBER!” Georgie clapped enthusiastically.

Hugh remembered that day.

Sometimes the people Georgie worked for took…odd decisions, like firing someone just because they were a prodigy, but this woman had been a special case; Georgie always described her as “distracted”, because she didn’t seem to notice anything happening in her surroundings. Georgie also said she owned like three different pairs of glasses, and that the day of the robbery she didn’t even notice she was being robbed until Georgie went to the back of the store, flown out through a window, put on her balaclava and black clothes and entered through the front door again to stop the robbery from happening.

When she had the situation under control, the lady thanked her and even offered her a water bottle.

Later, when Georgie came back in her normal clothes under the lazy excuse she had been in the restroom at the back of the building this whole time, the woman bought her story.

She didn’t notice Georgie was a prodigy, really. But Georgie willingly quitted, because she considered that place to be too chaotic and risky for her own sake.

And that was a lot to say, given Georgie herself was often unintentionally reckless.

“What’s with her?”

“Well…You know. Costume shop.” Kasumi shrugged. “Just saying.”

“Right.” Georgie snapped her fingers. “But the thing is…I think she went bankrupt.”

“Cool.” Tamaya said in a monotonous tone. “We can just go check out the building and see if there’s anything left in there.”

“Oh, no. That would be too low.” Georgie tilted her head to the side. “I don’t want to rob her. She’s nice.”

“What should we do, then?” Hugh cleared his throat, to which Georgie scratched her chin.

“I don’t know… Talk to her, I guess. I might still have her personal address somewhere.”

-.-

Unfortunately, she did have the address among her stuff, and two hours later he was sitting next to Georgie in a couch full of cat hair, drinking semi-cold tea (though it being cold was partly his fault for not having drank it immediately), in an apartment surrounded by antiques and ugly wallpapers.

This wasn’t the first time a situation had made Hugh reconsider his life choices, but Georgie surely was having a blast, and seemed unbothered by the fact that the gummies the lady had brought as a snack were _sour._

Who on Earth ate sour gummies these days?

“So, Georgia, sweetheart. Is this handsome gentleman your fiancé?”

Hugh tried hard not to choke, but Georgie didn’t skip one beat as she giggled.

“No, not quite, Tina.” She said, placing her mug on the table. “We’re family…I mean…uhm…Extended family.”

“I see.” Tina nodded.

Tina Lawrence was as distracted and eccentric as Georgie had described her, but Hugh was fond of her… to some extent.

“Are you two staying for dinner?”

_Please don’t._

“Thank you, Tina. That would be lovely…but I don’t think we have the time for that.”

_Good._

“You see. This might come off a little…impolite, but I need to ask you a favor.”

“My girl, you’re in no way impolite.” Tina assured, smiling. “What is it that you need?”

Hugh squirmed in his seat, to which Georgie, in a very discrete way, placed her hard on his arm.

“You see…Hugh and I…and some friends, too, were invited to attend a costume party outside of town, and well…we’re not in the best economic conditions but this other friend, the host of the party, is a very beloved one to us, so…”

Hugh couldn’t help but clear his throat to stop a chuckle from coming out; the idea of Ace Anarchy being the host of a costume party was _hilarious._ Georgie squeezed his arm tighter.

“Do you happen to still own the shop?”

Tina stared at both of them, tapping her chin with her finger, as if that were a very difficult detail to remember and they weren’t talking about something as important as a literal _shop_. That is: Tina’s source of income in the decaying city whose economic system was slowly crumbling.

“I do, actually.” She answered. “Sure, I went bankrupt and it’s out of business now, but all the stuff it’s still inside…I hope; I tried to clean it up myself but, as you can see, I’m not a handsome and strong young man like your friend.”

“Oh.” Hugh chuckled nervously, though at the same time relieved. “Thank you. I mean, I can…help you take the stuff out afterwards, if you like.”

“Yeah. I’m sure Hugh has no problem helping you.” Georgie said, and somehow it looked as if her soul were back in her body. “And neither do I. “

“That would be extremely helpful.” Tina clapped her hands, but before Georgie could respond anything, she continued.

“I’ll give you the keys. You can bring them back to me when you have time.”

“Thank you very much, Tina.” Georgie said. “ _Really._ I promise we’ll pay you back when…”

“Hush.”

And then Tina, who was already on her feet, walked across the room to face Georgie, with a suddenly more serious and…focused expression lighting up her face. When she offered her hands to Georgie, she stood up too, as confused as Hugh was.

Still lost, Georgie took the woman’s hands between her own and ran her thumb through her knuckles, just like she used to do every time she held anyone’s hands.

Tina looked at her in the eyes through her huge glasses, before saying, nonchalantly, and with a wink:

“You can pay me back once you’re done saving the world, dearie.”

_Oh._

-.-

They went to the costume shop at night, taking the long path like they always did when they wanted to avoid being seen. And even when they were already there, Georgie suggested they entered through the back door, which they did, despite Simon, Tamaya and Kasumi taking their sweet time to walk upstairs because the steps looked “unstable” and “creaked a lot”.

Once they were in the shop, though, their mood stabilized dramatically. Because, yes, the shop wasn’t in the best of the conditions, and it was pretty evident it had been abandoned for a few months now, but the stuff inside looked decent enough to use.

Before doing anything, Evander explained some things, like the fact they would have to take some sewing tools with them to personalize the suits, even though Georgie and Simon were the only ones who knew how to sew.

(Evander didn’t want to admit he had read way too many comics, but Hugh just _knew_ he had).

Oddly enough, it occurred to Hugh that, in an alternative universe, one in which Ace Anarchy didn’t take over everything, this is what going shopping with your friends (your family…) would’ve felt like. Because, for a couple of hours, the chaos stopped in their surroundings, as if their lives were not in danger, and they were alone in a world where everything was okay, fooling around while trying to convince Simon to put that robe down because he was going to choke during battle; while trying to force Hugh to leave those leggings right where they were because they didn’t look cool (They did. These people had no taste, that’s it); while trying to persuade Kasumi into choosing a one or two piece suit instead of a kimono; while refusing to question Georgie about her sudden obsession with her costume having a lot of golden and white.

Then there was the moment when, somehow, Georgie and Kasumi managed to squeeze Tamaya into a latex suit because it had a zipper at the back; at first, they claimed to have the situation under control, but then said zipper got stuck and they had to call Hugh into the fitting room, where he basically ate a lot of feathers before coming to the realization his fingers were too freaking big for the zipper (which was one of those microscopic zippers people put in formal attires…in a latex suit…honestly, who made those things?).

“I think I need light.” Hugh said, chuckling nervously.

To their side, Kasumi was trying to fan them with a piece of cardboard (She was doing her best to help), while Georgie stood grabbing Tamaya by the wrist, in case she fell.

“I think I need oxygen.” Tamaya responded in an almost nasal voice.

“Tam, I know that.” Hugh told her, clicking his tongue. “That’s why I need light, so I can, like, get you out of here because I can’t see sh—“

“Let’s go strip in front of the window, yay!” Tamaya said but, for some reason (maybe she was as uncomfortable as she claimed to be) she still started heading outside.

Once they were in a spot that allowed some light to get in, Simon, with the robe he had claimed as his own still on, covered Evander’s eyes with his hands, as Hugh, sticking his tongue out, finally got hold of the little zipper with the tips of his nails.

He tried once.

Twice.

Thrice…

The zipper moved a little, but it made Tamaya howl in pain, to which Hugh himself hissed, along with the rest, including Evander, who didn’t even know what the heck was happening.

“Okay.” Hugh gulped. “I’m gonna rip it.”

“Rip it. Yes.” Simon nodded.

“Heartlessly, darling.”

“Rip it, Hugh.”

“Excuse me. Do I get a say in all of this?”

“Perhaps you don’t.” Hugh talked to Tamaya from behind. “But you do get to do something.”

“And that is…?”

“Suck in your stomach.” Hugh laughed.

“Are you calling me fat?”

But before she could say anything else, Hugh took the fabric between his hands and, mercilessly, stretched it until it started ripping apart.

And, fortunately, Tamaya was being dramatic as always, because she was in no way stripping. She was, in fact, wearing a backless sports top.

Still, due to the ridiculousness of the situation, it ended up killing their last living brain cells, and by the time Hugh reached Tamaya’s lower back, where he wasn’t able to keep pulling the fabric down because of it being the spot where it met her pants (also made of latex, unfortunately), the rest of the guys started cheering for no reason at all. Even Tamaya, who was the victim of this whole situation, turned around and clapped her hands sarcastically.

He couldn’t complain, though, so he just bowed towards them in fake modesty.

“My latex-ripping lessons are on Saturdays at 5:00 PM.”

“Oof.” Tamaya rolled her eyes at him. “Count me in.”

Then, Hugh saw her, and she was _smiling_ at him. Genuinely. For the first time since…

Since the fight.

And, even if Hugh hadn’t noticed he was worried about that, the fact that she was smiling at him made him feel relieved.

Hugh smiled back as he opened his arms towards her; against all odds, Tamaya didn’t reject him, and once they were wrapped in a hug, he took a deep breath, saying:

“I’m sorry.”

He gave no further explanation, because he knew Tamaya _knew._

Because he was completely aware that Georgie was right when she said they had acted disgusting.

“I’m sorry too.” She said.

Right in that moment, the world seemed to stop once again, as if they were alone in a post-apocalyptic scenario, or before they dragged themselves into this.

“Ow, you guys.” Georgie said. “Is it time for a group hug?!”

Maybe it was or maybe it wasn’t.

Either way, they went ahead and, suddenly, Hugh felt different arms around his body, and they found themselves wrapped around each other, in a circle, which was the most uncomfortable position one could ever imagine; some people were eating feathers, others were stepping on somebody’s toes or watching their whole lives passing through their eyes as their feet tangled around Simon’s robe.

And then, all they could hear among the uncomfortable giggles, was sniffing.

Everything went silent, then, as their eyes laid on Evander, who didn’t join the hug but was hugging himself instead, body trembling and tears streaming down his face.

Hugh wasn’t very good at reading emotions, but even he could tell this wasn’t only because of the scene the kid happened to be witnessing; instead, he was breaking down, and he could see _everything_ coming out of him. Pain, grief, realization…there was joy buried deep within, but at the moment Evander was breaking.

Falling into pieces.

Shattering like glass.

The face and pain of somebody who had lost everything he had in a sudden, violent way.

Like a lot of prodigies out there.

Like himself.

Like Simon.

Like Georgie.

Like Tamaya.

Like Kasumi.

Maybe like Ace Anarchy himself, way back, before he became power hungry.

But this was just a kid; a new addition to their team.

A person who represented all they were fighting for.

Kasumi was the first one to hug him, very tightly, as her way to ask for forgiveness once again.

Forgiveness that was granted once Evander hugged him back and they both fell down on their knees, his arms wrapped around the other.

That’s how the group hug moved towards the floor, almost piled up on Evander, as Tamaya used her wings to cover all of them. Like a dome.

Or, perhaps, a very big and familiar blanket.

-.-

The night after they finally managed to record the video, which was also the night before they broadcasted said video, Simon’s hands were still recovering from altering the suits.

Because, yes, it had been _that_ difficult, even if he knew how to sew.

But that, certainly, wasn’t the only thing keeping him awake. There were a lot of things, actually, the main one being he was _almost_ sure this was his final day on Earth.

Ace Anarchy was a person who shouldn’t be underestimated in any sense, and Simon knew his willingness to obliterate them was infinite.

If this was the last night he would be alive, he didn’t want to spend it sleeping.

Although, Simon knew that, tomorrow, he would need that energy more than anything, so he was aware that, at some point, he would have to force himself to sleep.

Not now, though.

Maybe in one hour, minimum.

But not yet.

Simon brought his knees up to his chest, staring at the sky, as he recalled the first time he realized there was something wrong with him.

Not his powers or anything but…at the same time, _everything_ else.

That everything Simon carried within, because his feelings were too heavy and his mind was too loud.

Yet, somehow, he had been brave enough to get himself into this; to this day, Simon was still looking for a reason, but the only thing he could think about was that maybe, just maybe, this was the right thing to do.

And that sometimes there was nothing more to it, besides being so.

So, sighing, he looked down, and he was so lost but yet so focused, that he showed no reaction when he saw Hugh sitting next to him through the corner of his eye.

Being completely honest, Simon knew he would show up eventually, because that was just…him.

Besides, Simon slept next to him so, evidently, he would notice his absence at some point. He was predictable. Of course he would be on the roof.

That’s why he didn’t say a word at first, and Hugh didn’t, either. Because it was impossible to be unaware of what the issue was. They all shared one main issue now, and that was that tomorrow was a big day.

A big, dangerous and uncertain day.

Uncertainty was something Simon didn’t wished to _anyone,_ not even someone he didn’t like.

“You know, Si?” Hugh spoke in a hoarse voice, drawing Simon’s attention towards him.

After that, he didn’t continue, so Simon forced himself to smile at him to reassure it was okay to keep going.

“Maybe when we’re rich and able to run this city, we’ll have a _blast_ laughing about this.”

Now, Simon felt he wasn’t in the right mood to be laughing about stuff, but that did manage to get a chuckle out of him, just because he pictured himself years in the future, thinking about how he would remember himself back when he was on the roof with his mind full of death thoughts; he imagined a mature Simon who had somehow survived the storm, and seeing himself in his awkward teenage years happened to be, indeed, very hilarious.

“We’ll be drinking either ridiculously fine wine or very shitty alcohol in the major’s house.” Hugh continued, laughing. “And I’ll turn around and say ‘hey Si, remember when we were young and stupid and we decided to throw fists with Ace Anarchy? Look where that got us’ …And it will be scandalous, I promise. You’ll love it.”

“Why does it have to be the major’s house? Leave the poor guy alone, he’s already dead.” Simon giggled as he mildly nudged him. “There are ghosts in that house.”

“Cool. Company.”

“God.” Simon snorted, avoiding eye contact. “Stop it.”

Being that said, Simon hugged his legs tighter, as he kept staring at the moon.

He wanted to believe him. He really did.

He wanted to believe every word Hugh had just said, but every possible future after today was so scary and uncertain he just…couldn’t.

And even if he did, it was not enough. Because all the possible futures he had envisioned, even way back when things were okay, were not enough, because Simon carried too many wrong things, and he was starting to think he would need what was left of this life and half of the following one (if there was such thing as a next life) to fix those wrongs.

Maybe, to fix those wrongs, he would have to reborn in a universe Hugh wasn’t in.

“You promise we won’t get killed?”

He stared at him with his pair of brave and daring blue eyes, as his blonde hair danced thanks to the nightly breeze.

“I’d like to see them try.” Hugh responded.

Then he smiled; and like it happened all the time, Simon felt as everything inside him collided in a gruesome and violent way.

Someday this would be the death of him. Simon would crumble down along with his insides and he would have no other option but just…leave.

But until then, he would still be hopelessly in love with Hugh Everhart, his best friend.

Quiet and discrete, trying to make it seem as if those feelings weren’t even there.

But there was only one person inside of Simon’s head, and that person happened to be himself… and he knew that, those feelings he was trying to erase and conceal were still there, of course.

And they were intense, blinding and suffocating, like a forest fire, while at the same time they were massive and unpredictable; mysterious and terrifying.

Deep and unknown, like an ocean; an ocean the same color as Hugh’s eyes.

Because no matter how hard he ran in circles, trying to escape, he was always back in the same place, stuck.

All the paths led to Hugh.

And, despite having grown to accept the idea he couldn’t just stop feeling, it still hurt.

Simon was waking up every day to a person he was desperately in love with and, every day, he was greeted by that person with oblivious bliss.

The obliviousness of a person who didn’t love him back and, for instance, didn’t know Simon died a little every time he stared at him.

_Nobody will notice, if you try enough._

_Nobody has to know._

_Some things are better off left unsaid._


End file.
